


Bed of Roses

by cschoolgirl



Series: Right Here Waiting [6]
Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom
Genre: F/M, shipper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2018-04-03 23:00:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4117897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cschoolgirl/pseuds/cschoolgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when Logan wakes up in New Jersey instead of the mansion at the end of Days of the Future Past?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to RogueLotus and Margaret for the beta. And another huge thanks to RogueLotus for putting up with me and all my whining about writing.
> 
> The story's title comes from the song that inspired it - "Bed of Roses" by Warrant.

New Jersey? Logan sniffed the air again. Yep, Jersey. 

He rolled out of bed, looking around the room. It was shabby and needed remodeling since before he was born. The walls were paper-thin as he could hear a man and woman arguing down the hall. What in this alternate timeline would have brought him to a crap motel in New Jersey?

Logan emptied his pockets onto the dresser, adding what he found in his jacket. Taking stock, there was some loose change, a wallet with nothing bigger than a twenty, a multitool, a couple of condoms, a claim ticket for a garage in the city, and a cell phone. There was exactly one contact on the cell phone simply labeled X. 

Well, he supposed that was self explanatory in any timeline.

What better way to find out what was going on? He waited as it rang several times. "Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters," came the unusually bubbly voice.

Jubilee. It figured, no matter what timeline. "Why do they let you answer the phone?"

"Good morning to you too, Wolvie? What can I not do for you?"

Logan would swear he heard bubble gum popping. "Chuck around?"

"Professor X is at a meeting until Friday. Want to leave a note?"

Logan thought a moment; he felt like inquiring after Jean, maybe even Scott to see if they were alive, but neither one would understand what he'd just been through. "Hank?"

"Hold on a sec. He should be in his lab."

Logan arranged to meet Hank at a diner within walking distance of the motel. The diner was empty when he arrived and took a booth in the far corner. It would still be a half hour before Hank arrived. 

He heard the clanking of cups in back and watched dumbfounded as Rogue walked toward him in a waitress get up. He momentarily wondered if they were on an undercover mission, but if that was the case, why did her nametag read Rogue? And if they were undercover, surely Hank wouldn't have outed them by meeting here.

"Coffee?" Rogue asked, no recognition in her voice or eyes.

"Yeah." Logan took the menu being offered. He noticed the long sleeved top under the short sleeves of her uniform, but no gloves. "I'm waiting on someone." 

"Give me a holler when you're ready." Her southern accent was as nice as ever and brought him a bit of comfort.

He saw that the leggings Rogue wore matched her undershirt as she walked away. Even though the air conditioner was working, it wasn't cold enough for extra clothes unless she didn't have control of her mutation. If that was the case, why the lack of gloves?

She disappeared into the kitchen. He could hear talking and laughter over the water running in the sink. Logan felt a pang of guilt at the fact he didn't know what happened to her in the other timeline. He tried to tell himself it didn't matter; she was okay now.

Rogue came back out with a small bucket full of water and enough bleach that he could smell it on his side of the diner. She began to wipe down the front counter and stools. Logan tried not to show that he was watching her. 

She looked much the same as he remembered. Only the white stripes in her hair were missing. Logan wondered if that meant she hadn't gone through the terrible experience with Magneto which could be why she didn't recognize him. He huffed slightly, probably more than a few memories in this timeline that would only belong to him now. She smiled softly as their eyes met. He felt a spark of warmth and the feeling it invoked puzzled him. He was the first to look away.

A few minutes later Hank walked through the door in all his blue glory. Hank inclined his head at Logan before turning to Rogue. "Miss, can I have a cup of coffee? Please."

Rogue, acting as if big, blue, furry mutants walked into the diner everyday, replied, "Yes, sir." No sooner was Hank seated, than did Rogue arrive with coffee and a second menu. 

Logan and Hank both ordered. Once Rogue was through the swinging door of the kitchen, Logan turned his attention to Hank. "Do you know her?"

Hank scrunched his eyebrows together. "Our waitress? I don't recall ever having the occasion to be here before."

"Was she a student at Xavier's?" Logan was perplexed that Rogue would have made it to Jersey, but not further on to upstate New York. 

Hank looked thoughtful for a moment. "No. I'm quite certain I would remember the Southern accent if she had been in attendance."

Logan decided to steer their conversation to the present situation. He had given Hank a rundown of his circumstances on the phone. Hank took the opportunity to give Logan an overview of mutant relations in the last fifty years.

After eating, Logan agreed it was best to accompany Hank back to Xavier's where he could sort things out. He glanced at Rogue one final time. She seemed fine and that was enough. For now.

Hank stopped at the parking garage from Logan's claim ticket on the way. Logan was pleasantly surprised to find a motorcycle waiting for him. He followed Hank back to the mansion from there.

Logan settled into the mansion easily enough. Jean and Scott were indeed alive and well, and married. He kept a respectful distance from them. Besides Scott had other buttons Logan could push.

Those he remembered as Rogue's friends were all present and either teaching or on a team or both. He made a few inquiries with them about Rogue, but only received blank stares.

He'd been given a room in the staff's area. At the end of the week he still woke up in awe of all the books he'd collected. Likewise he owned more clothes than he would ever fit into a bag. He even had a suit hung up in the closet. Hank assured him the suit was for Xavier's galas Logan couldn't talk his way out of.

The rest of the week, after waking up in Jersey, Logan spent in Hank's lab reading files on who he was supposed to be. He'd spent a good part of the last fifty years with the X-Men. There had been times he'd taken a leave of absence for up to a year at a time, but mostly he was on the team and only roamed off for short periods of a month or so.

The mansion was always home base and one way or another he always ended up back there. In fact the last five years he had taught steadily at the school until about a month ago. Hank couldn’t add any information as to why he'd left this time.

When Xavier returned, they had a long talk about the differences in timelines. Logan assured him that they seemed to have been successful. Xavier extended the offer of further employment, they would find something to fit where Logan was currently at if he didn't want to teach history.

By the end of the second week at the mansion, Logan was feeling edgy. He'd helped out with a mission or two and other than the Danger Room there was little else to keep him busy. 

Rogue kept creeping into his thoughts. He'd checked school records as far back as fifteen years, to be on the safe side. Xavier had no knowledge of her. The files for known mutants didn't have her listed either.

Logan made up his mind to go back to Jersey and check up on her. Once he was convinced that she was doing fine, he would leave her be.


	2. Chapter 2

Logan left his bike at the same parking garage in the city and took the train into Jersey. He milled around the area surrounding the diner where Rogue worked.

The district was poverty stricken, with abandoned cars and derelict buildings. There was drug paraphernalia littering a couple of the vacant lots and the few houses that looked lived in had at least a window boarded up.

He ate a late lunch at the diner, taking a seat near the door. His waitress, Pamela, who was trying to chat him up; was very different from Rogue. Pamela was someone he might have taken for a quickie once upon a time, but he was here to check on Rogue not get laid. So he tried to be nice to Pamela all the while keeping an eye on Rogue.

Rogue went about her duties talking with the customers, being polite, and prompt. Logan knew no matter how good of a waitress she was; in this neighborhood her tips were minimal.

Logan left Pamela a nice tip to make up for the people the next booth over that left a huge mess and no tip. He found a good vantage point down the street where he could watch for Rogue. 

She left the diner mid-afternoon and headed the opposite direction. Carefully he trailed her the mile to the crap motel he'd woken up in. He waited a sufficient amount of time and when she didn't reemerge he went in.

There was just enough room in the lobby to set down his backpack next to the cigarette vending machine. Looking at the carpet, he thought better of it and reshouldered his pack. He rang the little bell on the small shelf, below the window, that served at the registration desk. A rotund man pried his eyes away from a small TV to stare at Logan.

"Need a room for the week," Logan told the man who had no intension of moving unless he had to. 

"Two eighty," the man said, still not moving from the chair.

Only when Logan pulled out his wallet did the man finally leverage himself from the chair and shuffle over.

"Room by the lady that entered a little bit ago." The man looked at him vacantly. "Brunette in the waitress uniform."

Logan was prepared to pay extra to get the room he wanted, but the man simply grabbed a different key and took the money. This guy really didn't care what went on here. Logan didn't know what disturbed him more; the man's attitude or the fact he probably made more than Rogue who worked her butt off at the diner.

Walking down the hall, he tracked Rogue's scent to the room next to the one he'd been given. Entering his room, he did a quick assessment and it was as bad as the one he'd had two weeks ago. There was a small, but clean enough bathroom; a sink area just outside it with an old microwave, coffee pot and a mini fridge that might work. 

Further in the room was a queen bed; next to it was a cheesy desk that doubled as a nightstand with a lamp and an alarm clock. He tossed his bag on the dresser next to the TV and looked out the window. 

* * *

Logan heard the alarm clock go off in Rogue's room. He rolled over to see his, 4:30 A.M. Her shower started and then later what sounded like Rogue getting ready for the day. At a quarter after five she left her room. He went to the window and watched her, in uniform, walking in the direction of the diner.

He showered, put on clean clothes, and pocketed his key. Checking the hall to make sure it was empty, he jimmied Rogue's room door with no trouble. It figured, the keys were more of a formality than a security feature.

He stood for a second thinking of the berating he would have received from the Rogue he "knew" for this breach of privacy. He'd promised to take care of "her", the least he could do after that failure was to make sure this Rogue was okay.

Her bathroom held no name soap and shampoo, and a few female type products. The sink area had exactly one mismatched place setting, a mug, and several cans of soup. Underneath the sink was an old bucket with some laundry products and dish soap. 

In the closet area was her dark green winter coat he remembered from another time and place. He smelled it, smiling at the memories it brought back. Memories that were now no one else's but his. He frowned and turned to the other things hanging there.

Two freshly laundered and ironed uniforms, hung ready for use. The dresser contained the usual female undergarments, two pair of jeans, a handful of shirts, and several sets of the undershirts and leggings he'd seen her in yesterday.

In the very back of the drawer were two pairs of threadbare gloves. The gloves had something wound up in them, cautiously he unwrapped them to find two hundred in cash. He made sure to put it back as he'd found it. The only other personal item in the room was a ten-year-old ipod with a cracked screen held together with packing tape. There were no pictures or letters indicating she did anything outside of work and sleep.

When Logan left her room, he admitted to himself that his original assessment of her situation might have been overly optimistic. 

* * *

At breakfast he made sure to sit in her area so he could watch her without being too obvious. There were little things that remind him of the Rogue of his timeline: her smile, her light laugh, the carefulness of her movements, and the way she tilted her head when she was listening.

Other things belonged completely to this Rogue: she smelled warm and sweet almost like peaches, the sway of her hips and the way she peeked at him from under her lashes. What really bugged him though was he thought she had a different smile for him than the other customers.

He shook his head at the thought; he'd been in this timeline roughly three weeks and he was becoming starry eyed over Rogue. Finishing his breakfast, he left her a decent tip and contemplated coming back for lunch, but thought better of it. Best not to be conspicuous.

* * *

Logan had wandered his way down to the bar. It was a small place, with a few regulars that came and went during the afternoon. The beer on draught was passable. Listening to the bartenders, he could tell that on the weekends the bar would fill up with a rougher crowd. Occasionally, the younger, rowdy soldiers from Fort Dix would come in.

Late in the afternoon, a young tough that had been sizing up Logan for the last hour came over and sat beside him at the bar. "Name's Tony."

Logan didn't even bother to acknowledge the guy. He finished his beer and stood up to leave. Tony spoke again. "You ever do any fighting?"

Tony turned toward Logan and started to put his hand on Logan's arm. Logan stopped the guy with a steely glare. Laughing, Tony put his back to the bar. "Oh yeah, you know how to fight." Tony took a gulp of his beer. "If you're interested we do matches down at the warehouse district starting at ten. No cage, but the money's good, if you are."

Logan grunted and walked out. Four days in town and he had a promising form of entertainment for the night.

* * *

That night he's spent a fair amount of time scoping out the fights. The place was easy enough to find. The crowd was small and he hung out on the edge of it. There was a makeshift platform with burn barrels at the corners made up the fight ring. 

The first few fights were lightweights, nothing worth his time. Toward the end, there was a fighter or two that might last a round or so with him. 

Tony found him before Logan left. "The fights heat up on the weekend." Tony pointed out a muscular built, bald man. "Dog will fight then. He's just here tonight for the fighter he's training."

Logan's eyes followed Tony's finger as he pointed out several other men in the audience, probably scoping out the competition like he was. "Sometimes the soldiers from the Fort make a showing."

Logan only grunted. If it was payday it could be lucrative. 

"If you were to compete, what name would you go by?" Logan knew Tony had wanted to ask that from the start.

"Wolverine."

Tony looked surprised. "It's been awhile." Logan fixed him with a glare. Tony continued on quickly. "I mean, haven't heard your name on any of the circuits lately."

"Been busy," Logan said as he left.

* * *

Rogue's alarm went off at the same time as the morning before. When Logan got up to relieve himself, he heard her crying through the adjoining bathroom wall.

His first impulse was to go knock on her door and offer to kick the ass of whatever boy was making her cry. Then it dawned on him that this wasn't the mansion. This Rogue wouldn't understand his need to hunt down and beat the shit out of some guy he didn't even know.

He growled internally and went back to bed. Did he even understand this need of his?

Logan got up again around noon and headed to the diner for a late lunch. Rogue served him with a smile, but was scarce the rest of the time. He didn't see her again after she cleared his plates and he decided to head back to the motel.

He was outside finishing his cigar when Rogue walked past him into the small motel lobby. She was talking to a man behind the counter, who was also the manager. Logan inched closer to the door to hear what was being said clearly. 

"I know I'm twenty short on rent. I'll pay you tomorrow." Rogue's voice sounded strained. Logan closed his eyes and down graded her living situation another notch. 

"Today," said the manager. Logan peered through the glass door at the slim, greasy man who worked the early afternoon.

"It was a bad week," countered Rogue.

"What if tomorrow is bad, too?" The manager asked.

"You know I'm good for it." Rogue was losing her patience.

"You could work it off." The manager had an odd sort of glee in his voice that left little doubt he was offering Rogue a trade for a sexual act.

Logan yanked open the door while fishing two twenties out of his jean's pocket. He approached Rogue and the manager, holding the cash out toward Rogue. The manager's growing pleasure at the prospects of the situation were suddenly dashed. The distaste in Rogue's eyes changed to confusion when she faced Logan.

"I think you dropped this out front." Logan was offering a way out of the predicament without being beholden to anyone.

Rogue stared at the money then at Logan. He could see the wheels turning in her head while she tried to decide how far she could trust him.

She reached out tentatively and that soft smile he thought was for him alone flitted across her lips. "Thank you!"

Rogue turned back to the man behind the window and put one of the twenties on the counter. Without saying another word she strode off toward the stairs, ponytail bouncing proudly with every step.

Logan directed his attention back to the manager. He didn't want to know how many women and men in this place fell prey to this man's demands to keep a roof over their heads. Logan wanted to snap the manager's neck like the little weasel deserved. He settled for a glower that made the man take a step backwards and turn a sickly green color.

Logan took the stairs slowly, allowing Rogue plenty of time to enter her room before he reached the hall. As he passed by her door, he could hear her on the other side. He felt her staring at him, he walked on past as if he had no idea it was her room. 

He was here to check on her not make goo-goo eyes at her through the peephole. He wanted to be as unobtrusive as possible and not let her think he was stalking her. She let out a small, frustrated huff as he unlocked the room next to hers.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What does Rogue think of Logan?

Rogue glanced up when the door opened. He stood framed in the door, filling it, before walking to one of her tables and taking a seat. He'd become a regular of sorts the last week, but never ate at the same times as most regulars. He preferred to eat when the diner was mostly empty.

At first she thought he was simply bored and that was why he watched her. She'd been slightly flattered that he continued to choose her tables to sit at, after all he tipped well. Something about the way he looked at her, and admittedly the wildness of his hair, put a smile on her face. She'd had to tamp down the temptation more than once to flirt with him.

Then yesterday when he'd come to her aid at the motel… he hadn't been a knight in shining armor and Rogue most definitely wasn't a damsel in distress. Deep inside she knew she wasn't trading one bad situation for another. It had been something else that had brought him in to 'rescue' her. She thought she had seen a flicker of empathy in his eyes. He recognized a person in a tough spot and he was equipped to help out.

But when Rogue found out he had the room next to hers, coincidence seemed unlikely. She would need to do something about any ideas he might be conjuring up in regard to her. There was no time in her life for things that didn't deal with working or making sure she was able to work. 

Sleeping, yes. 

Showering, yes.

Laundry, yes. 

Eating, when she could afford it. 

Boyfriend – she stole a glance at him. Scratch that. All man, no boy in that one. No matter how much she wanted time for **him** , she couldn't afford it.

Rogue had gotten him coffee, taken his order, and served his breakfast. She peeked up at him again; he was halfway finished. It was now or never. She reached in her apron pocket and pulled out the other twenty from yesterday.

Stopping at his table she laid the twenty down next to his plate. "Thanks…" she paused, trying to find the right words, but nothing came to her.

He picked up the money and handed it back to her. "Found it on the ground. Thought it was yours."

That smile she only showed him, creased her lips. "Liar," she said teasingly. "I have a feeling you're good at it when you want to be and you're not even trying."

His eyes softened and if she hadn't been paying attention she would have missed it. His face returned to schooled indifference. "I don't know what you're talking about."

She held the money toward him again, but he ignored it as if it weren't even there. "Can I sit for a minute?" she asked finally.

He indicated the seat opposite him. She put the twenty back in her apron; she'd find a way to give it to him later, and pay back the other twenty.

Rogue sat down and cleared her throat. "I appreciate what you've done for me…" She lifted her eyebrows.

"Logan," he supplied for her.

"Logan." She rolled that name around in her mouth, liking the feel of it. The smile was starting to appear and that wouldn't do, especially as she was sure he was focusing on her mouth. Rogue put on a stern look her mama would think appropriate.

"Really, I do appreciate it. But anything else you might have designs about…" She floundered around. She didn't want to out right accuse him of wanting sex. "You'd need to see Pamela for that kind of thing."

Logan's eyes shot from her to Pamela, who was flirting (to put it mildly) with the customer on the other end of the diner. Her uniform always unbuttoned two buttons too low for all the cleavage it was trying to hold in. 

He pushed his plate away and stared out the window. His jaw was firmly set and she could see a muscle on the side moving.

Rogue was suddenly sorry. She was dumb, so wrapped up in her own little world that she'd transferred her own budding feelings onto him. She sighed heavily.

"You remind me of someone," he said, turning back to her. He was studying her, and she thought he was listening to something. She hoped her stomach wasn't betraying her. It had been growling, but not too badly yet this morning. She didn't have the money to eat, pay him back, and make rent this coming week. "You can have the rest."

Rogue scrutinized the plate in the middle of the table. He hadn't touched the pancakes, the sausage, or one of the hash browns. She looked at him doubtfully.

He smiled at her. "It's not like you're Persephone." For a second she got lost in the thought of 'having' to be a consort for Logan. She must have looked bewildered, because he quickly followed up. "Forget it."

"Oh, I get it. Greek mythology." She glanced at the food again. "Was she family? The girl I remind you of."

"No." He gave a short laugh. "She hid in my truck and ate all my jerky."

Rogue took a fork from the extra silverware and started on the pancakes. She was obviously safe if he had a habit of feeding hungry girls. Eyeing him, she noticed he seemed to have a relaxed or at least wasn't as tense as usual. "We went through a lot of shit together."

"Where is she now?" she asked before taking another bite. 

Logan shrugged. She could tell he was holding something back, trying to decide exactly what to tell her. "It was a war torn area. Things got bad and I lost track of her. Don't know where she ended up."

She studied him. "You were in the military?" There was something about him that reminded her of the older soldiers that came in occasionally. 

"No, not military."

Not missing a beat, because it wouldn't surprise her. "Mercenary?"

"Not that time," he stated with a wry smile.

Now Rogue was truly interested. "Should I be worried about you stalking me?" she teased as she finished off the pancakes.

He laughed and it sent a warm tingle down her spine. "Not stalking you. I'm going to be here for a while and I need a place to eat. It's nice to talk to you and think things turned out okay for my friend."

"What do you do, that you're in this part of Jersey?" She felt like she was slacking on her work duties, but she couldn't help herself. She wanted to know more about Logan. Maybe she would find out that he was a serial killer or something equally dark and she would be able to quash these feelings that were growing in her heart. 

"On a sabbatical of sorts, from teaching." 

"A teacher, huh." That surprised her a little, so she ventured a guess. "Greek Mythology?"

"History." He gave her a genuine smile that made her smile in return. 

Rogue glanced at her watch. It had only been a few minutes, but she really needed to get back to work. "Will you be back in later?"

He looked a little shocked that she would ask. "I can be."

"Good, I look forward to it." She'd added the last part without thinking and blushed at how it sounded like she was leading him on after telling him to see Pamela.

Logan cast a sideways glance at Pamela then looked back at Rogue. His eyes softened again for a second and he gave her an understanding smile. "See ya' soon, Darlin'."

Darlin'. Something about the way he said it gave her a tingly feeling. She quickly turned back to busing the table as he left. Rogue spent the rest of the day trying to keep busy so that she wouldn't daydream about Logan. Although she was having trouble hiding the little smile that kept threatening to break into a full-blown grin.


	4. Chapter 4

Logan made sure he returned to the diner after the lunch rush was over. This time he sat at the counter so Rogue could keep a better eye on the two customers left. She looked at him skeptically when he ordered two plates, but she happily ate with him when the food arrived and the others were gone.

"What brings a Southern girl to New Jersey?" He was sure her story would be close to what he remembered, but he wanted to hear it. He wanted to get to know this Rogue.

She smiled at him and since this morning he knew that smile was only for him. "I was sixteen and kissed a boy. Put him in a coma."

"Mutation?"

"Yeah. What is it they like to call it in Upstate New York?"

"Gift,"

"Well it might be a gift Upstate, but in Mississippi that was the furthest thing from the truth. So I loaded my duffle bag, took all five hundred of my savings, and thought I could go anywhere." She gave him a tight smile. "Decided I was going to see the Statue of Liberty and Niagara Falls on my way to Alaska. Made it to Jersey and reality hit."

They grew quiet, but Logan enjoyed listening to her and prompted her to continue. "So waitressing?"

Rogue nodded. "Luckily, reality set in right here. Chet, the owner, let me sleep on the couch in back until I saved enough money for rent down at the motel." Shrugging, she added, "Been here ever since."

Logan took a drink of his ice tea and then plucked at her long sleeved shirt. "What's your mutation?"

She turned a sharp eye on him. "You first."

"What makes you think I have a mutation?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"The first day you ate with one of the bluest mutants I've ever seen. So you're either a mutant or a friend of mutants." She leaned back, studying him and teased. "I'm voting mutant. Otherwise, how do you keep your hair like that without a ton of styling products?"

He snorted at her. "Better than average healing, heightened senses, and claws." Her eyes widened at the word claws and then dropped to his hands. "Not here." She nodded, still big eyed. He waited a moment. "You're turn."

"Oh. Life sucking skin. I suppose there's a more scientific name, but basically I take your energy, mutation, and memories. My control's good, except when I'm tired."

"Makes sense."

"That's why I wear the long sleeves and leggings. Don't want an accident at work." After finishing the last bite of her hamburger, she continued. "One life sucking accident was enough. Fortunately all that boy had on his mind were baseball stats, and I spent the next three weeks with him rolling around in my head while I watched all the baseball I could. But by that time the damage to my life was done. Everyone wanted things to go back to the way they were and the easiest way to accomplish that was for me to leave." She frowned down at the puddle of ketchup and the few fries left on her plate. 

Logan wished he could say something that would lighten her mood. He thought about telling her he was glad she was here and looked forward to seeing her everyday. That would be great, creep her out when things were going so well.

"Ah, wandering down memory lane isn't always the heart warming experience everyone makes it out to be." Rogue pasted on a smile that had to be the one she used when she was told to 'buck up' back home. He smelled the sadness underneath and decided he would start looking for a way to make her life better. "No more bad experiences today. Tell me something about yourself."

He stared through the little window into the kitchen. What should he tell her? He knew who he was supposed to be according to the files at Xavier's. Yet he didn't feel like a teacher and after going on a couple of missions with the X-Men he knew his vision of what they should be doing was too gritty, too dark for them. "I don't know."

"What do you mean?"

Logan decided to take a chance. If he was going to scare her off it would be best to do it sooner rather than later, because if she kept looking at him that way he might fall for her. "Sometimes I feel the life I've lived isn't who I am. Being a history teacher is only a façade."

She laughed. "You think you'll figure out who you are in Jersey?"

"I found you, so I'm not doing too bad." Rogue blushed and turned away. If the smile was anything to go by, he hadn't scared her off.

* * *

The next several weeks fell into a comfortable pattern for Logan. He'd walk Rogue to work and bought her breakfast. They'd eat together if possible. Then he'd meander back to the motel and read one of the books he brought from the mansion. 

Sometimes he'd go for a drink then make his way to the diner for a late lunch with Rogue.

He quickly discovered she was the go to gal for the other wait staff wanting time off. Once or twice a week she would pick up extra hours or occasionally a double shift. On those days he would use the spare time to go to the fights. Weekends were best, but the weeknights could be a decent way to pass time.

Logan had begun to get up to her alarm. He'd shave, shower, and then meet Rogue so they could head off to the diner together. Usually he could hear her shower running as he shaved.

This morning was no different. The spray hitting a soft surface as she soaped, a hollow 'thunk' when the washcloth was dropped to the bottom of the tub, soft surface again as Rogue rinsed, and the heavy fall of water as she wrung out the washcloth.

Per her routine the shower would be shut off any second. He was taking the last stroke with the razor when he heard an unmistakable intake of breath. It was followed by a small moan and a shuddering breath.

Logan stood there staring at himself in the mirror, blood dripping from the razor. Involuntarily, he sniffed the air. The walls were thin, but not that thin. His cock was already growing hard at the thought of what Rogue was doing in the shower.

Hurriedly, he rinsed his face and left the bathroom to give her privacy. He was going to need privacy of his own if he put anymore thought into this. He really did not need images of her making those same sounds while underneath him. She already fueled his imagination and realistic noises would not help. 

God, he wanted to go next door and ask her to let him watch. 

After her shower shut off, he turned his on. No hot water for him this morning.

Rogue met him in the hall; bright, happy, and smelling delicious. He closed his eyes briefly, trying to force himself to think of other things. When he opened his eyes the first thing he saw was the sway of her hips as she walked down the hall ahead of him.

She stopped at the elevator and punched the down button. They almost always took the stairs. "Hope you don't mind," she said as the door slid open.

Logan did mind, he minded very much. The last thing he wanted to do was be in a confined space with Rogue when she smelled so enticing and had been... He leaned against the railing of the elevator. 

He was in hell, pure and simple. She turned and smiled at him and he mentally cursed himself. All he could think about doing was pushing her against the wall and ravaging her beautiful mouth with his. 

His cock was hard again and his mood was turning sour. Rogue trusted him to be the good guy and right now he wanted to be so far from good he couldn't see straight. Her scent was filling the elevator and he couldn't close his eyes this time for fear he would stop the elevator and take her hard and fast against the door. He needed, with every fiber of his being to hear her make those sounds again.

Ding! He followed her off the elevator, through the lobby, and out into the street. They had walked half the distance to the diner when she spoke. "We're unusually quiet this morning." 

He grunted in response. Talking was not on his to do list for the day.

After another block, Rogue bumped into him playfully. "Hey, what's up?"

Logan didn't want to lie, but he couldn't tell her what was on his mind. "No hot water this morning." There a truthful statement that gave nothing way. He was almost proud of himself.

Until she wrinkled her forehead all-innocent like. "Huh, there was plenty of hot water when I took my shower." And here he thought he'd finally wrestled his libido into submission. This was not going well.

When they arrived at the diner it was busier than normal and Rogue didn't have time to eat breakfast with him. He was secretly relieved. He needed some distance from this morning before he would be suitable company.

* * *

Logan sat down for lunch, perturbed with himself. Here he'd spent his time thinking only of his needs and wants, had been since waking in this timeline. Since he'd come back to New Jersey he'd spent his days and nights leisurely pursuing his own selfish interests. He didn't need to fight, the money was nice and paid for everything, but he'd found a tally book in his room at the mansion. 

With a little investigative work he'd determined that the coded numbers were bank accounts. After making a few calls, he didn't try them all, he discovered the smallest of those accounts would easily set someone up in a new location, a place to live, and change to spare so they wouldn't have to worry about a job for a good long time. 

He could do that for Rogue, even let her finish school and go to college if she wanted. Logan also knew that Rogue would be a hard sell for such 'charity'. And since when had he started worrying about one individual's future that didn't start and end with himself.

"Ask for Friday off." She stared at him, french fries halfway to her mouth. He realized it came out as a command. "Please."

She smiled sadly at him. "Logan, you know I can't."

"I'll take you into the city and we'll make a day of it." He could see the emotions plainly on her face. She wanted to be mad at him for even suggesting she be so irresponsible, on the other hand she wanted to be irresponsible for one day. 

Finally she closed her eyes and shook her head no. "Logan..." He could smell the tears she was trying to shut out.

He took her hand in his. "Come on when was the last time you took a day off?"

Rogue's eyes opened just enough to peer at her hand in his. "Four years."

"I'll pay for the day and help you make up the difference in rent." He was pleading now, but he really didn't care. It had been a long time since he'd cared about someone else's happiness and it felt better than it probably should.

Rogue scrutinized him. "Okay, but don't count on it."

He waited impatiently, for what seemed like an eternity, but in reality was only a few minutes. Rogue walked out of the kitchen, wiping irritably at her eye. She nodded at him and started to clear away the remnants of their meal.

"Chet said yes?" She nodded again, wiping away a tear. Logan was confused. "Then why the tears?" 

"He said it was about time I took a day off."

Logan wanted to jump up and bolt for the door. He had plans to make and a couple of calls to place to see if something could be arranged. Damn, he was acting like some sixteen-year-old boy on his first date; giddy with anticipation of making a girl happy. 

Well, it was a new timeline. He could try something different.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yep, a perfect not-a-date date.

Rogue stood at the window of her room searching the street. Logan said he would pick her up at eight sharp. Even though she had time to sleep in, it was hard to stay in bed after she heard his door shut when he left. She tried not to rush getting ready, but it was difficult. It wasn't like this was a date; they'd made that clear at the outset, but her stomach was filled with butterflies

So there she stood for the last twenty minutes sure that she had missed his arrival. Would Persephone have waited for Hades if she knew he was coming to get her? 

Rogue let her mind wander back to that first conversation with Logan in the diner, when he made the reference to Persephone, the Greek goddess who was abducted by Hades and taken to the underworld to be his bride. She smiled at his attempt to convince her that he wasn't a bad guy looking to kidnap her to hell and steal her virtue. She always thought that Hades got a bad rap in that story; what he did was wrong, to be sure, but he couldn't have been all that bad if Persephone eventually learned to love him and embrace her role as his Queen.

At a little before eight she watched a motorcycle pull up in front of the motel. The rider got off and leaned against the bike. Rogue scanned back down the street. He still had a few minutes.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the motorcycle rider light a cigar. Her eyes flew back to the rider, to Logan staring up at her. Her heart stopped, and she was frozen in place. He lifted a hand and she grabbed her jacket and ran out the door.

Skipping the elevator, which would take too long; she pushed open the door for the stairs. She resisted the urge to rundown the stairs; she didn't trust herself to not trip and break an appendage. Despite pacing herself, she ended up standing in front of Logan out of breath.

He smirked at her as if he could hear how hard her heart was beating in her chest. Rogue took a moment to regain her equilibrium by walking around the motorcycle.

"A teacher?" He raised an eyebrow at her. "What are you Indiana Jones?"

Taking the cigar from his mouth, he said, "Darlin', Professor Jones is a wuss." He tossed Rogue a helmet, put out his cigar, and they were off. 

It was a weird feeling at first, wrapping her arms around him, but after awhile there was an odd comfort in it. Logan put his hand briefly over hers at one point, and she realized a second later it had been a warning that he was about to accelerate.

One with the machine is what came to Rogue's mind. Logan was obviously an experienced rider, moving with the bike. The speed concerned her in the beginning. As a kid she'd ridden on the back of her cousin's moped, but they had only slowly putted down the block and back.

This was nothing like that. The roar of the bike under her and the solid wall of Logan in front of her was one of those experiences she couldn't easily put into words. She took a deep breath and imagined herself melting into his back. It was easier if she didn't think about what to do, but just moved with him trying to keep pace.

As soon as she thought she'd gotten the hang of it, he touched her hand again. She knew at this speed he probably had a large grin on his face. For her part, she wished that the helmets weren't required. She wanted to press the side of her face into his back. A little voice told her the experience would be so much more that way.

When they arrived at their destination, she dismounted the bike and stood on the sidewalk. Her whole body was humming; she wanted to do a little dance like a kid with a new toy. Looking at Logan, a huge smile spread across her face, and she saw the same thing reflected in his eyes.

The motorcycle ride itself was worth taking the day off for.

After securing the helmets he escorted her into the small storefront restaurant. At this point she was starving and supposed any diner would do. It was only after she looked at the menu board that she realized where he'd brought her. Grits, fried chicken, catfish, buckwheat waffles…the list went on. 

"People keep telling me this is the best Southern food in the North." Rogue wanted to throw her arms around him and kiss him silly.

"Order the grits and let's find out." She could tell he was trying not to smile at her excitement.

Since this was a friend's day out, she sufficed with a playful hip bump. "Look, they have Southern fried chicken."

"We'll get some to go. For lunch." He did smile this time.

"Oh! A real boxed lunch." She couldn't stand still and started bouncing slightly as they waited their turn. Logan didn't exactly laugh, but she could see the amusement in his eyes.

Some time later, Rogue stood on the sidewalk beside the motorcycle, boxed lunch in a bag on her wrist. "That was pretty good. My Nana does better, but not bad for the North."

She looked at the bike glumly. Logan glanced at her, "What's wrong?"

Lifting a shoulder, she answered a little perkier than she felt. "Just letting myself wander too far down memory lane, again." Rogue sighed happily. "You know, I think my day would be complete if I got a ride back to the motel. I'm stuffed. I need to flop on the bed and undo my pants."

Logan shifted uncomfortably on the bike before starting it and she was suddenly embarrassed. Her mama would've said the last part to her daddy and she'd heard her aunts talk that way often, but this was Logan and she'd only known him less than a month. 

So far Logan had refused to tell her the plans for the day. Only saying, "in case things change". But she thought it had more to do with him wanting to surprise her. What an old fashioned first date idea. Rogue didn't care if they weren't on a date, she could pretend on her one day off if she wanted. Tomorrow reality would be unavoidable, but that was tomorrow.

Their next stop was along the waterfront. Logan secured the bike and she gawked toward Liberty Island. 

"Wait, you're taking me to see the Statue of Liberty?" This time she launched herself at him, dropping the boxed lunch as she hugged him.

He was tense for a moment before he returned the hug. She would have sworn he sniffed at her and she remembered him saying something about heightened sense. Quickly she let go and stepped back. Exactly what could he tell from smelling her?

What if he could tell when she was sexually aroused? Like when she'd held onto him on the motorcycle? Or how badly she wanted to kiss him right now? 

Rogue dared a peek at his face and saw the desire in his eyes flicker briefly. They both turned awkwardly to look down toward the ferries docked at Battery Park.

Eager to put the discomfort behind them, she commented. "The lines are awfully long."

"Yeah, better get a move on." He picked up the dropped lunch bag and they walked to the parking garage exit.

They made their way down to the ticket booth in Battery Park. Rogue tried to keep her bouncing to a minimum when the tickets for the crown tour were placed in her hand. 

They were allowed to bypass most of the lines. Logan took the metal detectors in stride. Although on the third wanding and explanation of his 'medical condition', she would swear he growled. The growl prodded her brain into a sexual direction, which she had to tamp down on quickly. They didn't need a repeat of the earlier awkwardness among a crowd of security personnel.

She was beginning to fear they would miss the ferry and have to wait a half hour more, when security finally cleared him. Grabbing his hand, she jogged to the gangway. He had a tight hold on her hand and glancing over at him, he had an odd expression on his face she couldn't decipher. By the time they boarded he was back to his schooled indifference.

Rogue spent the ride trying not to sound too excited, but her cheeks were staring to ache from all the smiling. Logan stayed close, almost in a protective mode. She was thankful because the crowd was pressing in from all sides.

The men, mostly tourist types, gave Logan extra space. The women were a different story. They all gave him a second look that made Rogue feel a bit of pride in the fact that he was with her. She wished she could lean into him or sling an arm around him, but she didn't want to cause him to be uneasy. Not when everything was going so well.

After disembarking at Liberty Island, they found a place away from the crowds to eat the boxed lunch. Despite being stuffed after breakfast Rogue was hungry again.

"Why don't you carry one of those medical cards for security purposes?" she asked, while they ate cold fried chicken.

"I got one, just not to go with this I.D." His reply was too straightforward to doubt.

Finishing off her piece of chicken, she asked, "So your name's not Logan?"

He fished out a second piece for them both. "I've gone by Logan as far back as I can remember. The officials like two names on I.D. cards." Pausing before taking a bite, he added, "I'm pretty sure yours doesn't say only Rogue."

She gave a small laugh. "No, it doesn't." She didn't bother to ask about his other I.D.s. From their previous conversations she knew he'd traveled widely in the past and he also didn't deny being a mercenary. So what were a few extra I.D.s?

When they finished the chicken off, he handed her a small container and a fork. Rogue have him a sideways glance. Inside were two pieces of pecan pie sitting side by side. 

"You didn't tell me you got pie."

He was staring at something in the distance. "Plans change."

One impulse she leaned over and kissed Logan on the cheek. He turned away from her rubbing his neck. She knew she'd embarrassed him, but she didn't care; because he'd thought about pie in connection with her. 

This was the best date she'd ever been on, even if it was the only date she'd ever been on. Even if it was officially not a date.

The rest of their time at the statue went like any tour would. Lots of talking from the tour guide with the usual lame jokes tossed in. Then there were the stairs to the crown. Rogue decided it was a good thing she worked on her feet or she may not have made the climb.

This was the only place on the entire tour Logan showed any real interest. Although he wasn't listening to the guide, it was as if he was inspecting the crown room for some sign of…damage or flaws. He then turned his attention to the torch, his expression turning bittersweet.

Rogue reached for his hand, feeling the need to "comfort" him. He readily took her hand and even gave it a reassuring squeeze. She spent the next few minutes paying very little attention, but it was near impossible with Logan still holding her hand. The heat his body radiated was a huge distraction as well.

The ferry ride back to Battery Park was uneventful. There was a distinct lack of handholding, which was a disappointment. She consoled herself with the thought that there was still a motorcycle ride in which she would be required to hold onto him tightly.

* * *

When Logan and Rogue finally made it back to the parking garage and the motorcycle the afternoon was already gone. "Where to?" he asked.

"Are you going to the fights tonight?" Rogue wanted to know, taking her helmet. She smiled at the thought of 'her helmet', at least for a little longer. "Because if you are, we can grab something quick or you can simply take me back to the motel."

"Fights start at ten, so supper it is." Logan let her settle on the bike before he asked. "What would you like?"

"I haven't had pizza in a long time." She said, wrapping her arms around him.

"I know a place in Brooklyn." 

The place in Brooklyn turned out to be one she'd heard people talk about. "Go early to get a seat, because everyone comes from miles around for their woodstove pizza." Or at least that is what she'd been told. 

Rogue couldn't remember what he ordered for them, but it came with meat and beer. She sipped at her beer, not wanting to make a pit stop to pee on the ride south; Logan was more than willing to finish it after emptying his glass.

Next he took them further North to Astoria Park. They stopped along the East River as the sun was setting. She got off, giving him 'her helmet'. She wondered what else he had in store for her when he leaned back against the bike. "They tell me this is one of the best places to see the sunset in New York."

"You've had this whole day planned out, sunrise to sunset?" she asked, leaning back beside him.

"Always good to have a plan." She knew he was being honest, probably even liked planning; but she didn't believe for one second that his life had ever been lived that way. In fact, she believed most of Logan's life veered from any plan ever laid out.

It was quiet there, as quiet as it ever got in the city, and certainly quieter that it had been for them all day. She let out a content sigh and he slung an arm over her shoulders. She froze, but what was this to the little kiss she'd placed on his cheek or holding his hand earlier today. Rogue gave into the moment and leaned her head on his shoulder. 

Yep, a perfect not-a-date date.

"Take me to the fights with you." She looked up in time to see him working his jaw. "I'll stay out of the way."

Logan was staring out at the multicolored sky. "We'll need to leave now."

She stood up and leaned in to place a kiss on his sideburn. He turned toward her and her lips crashed into his. It would have been a disaster of a kiss, but he didn't seem to notice. Instead he drew her in, correcting their positions and let her have a second chance. 

Rogue angled away to look him in the eye. "I've put a boy in a coma before."

A wolfish grin appeared. "I'm not a boy."

"No. No, you're not." She quit contemplating, closed her eyes and let it happen.

It was a light touch at first with her lips slightly parted, lasting only a second or two. She lingered there, and then placed another soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. Her hand moved to touch his cheek. She gazed into his eyes, seeing heat there, before his attention turned back to her lips. 

His hand at her neck pulled her in again and he carefully licked her lower lip, sending shivers down her spine. She parted her lips letting him sweep his tongue gently between them. He backed away, staying close enough to inhale her warm breath. 

She saw him working his jaw again. Decision time. "We should probably get going," she said, hoping to break the mounting tension. He gave her a tight smile and nodded.

They left the motorcycle at a parking garage near Penn Station and rode the light rail back down to Jersey. Rogue was beginning to believe Logan was more of a mystery than she would ever be able to unravel. He parked his motorcycle in a garage surrounded by luxury cars and yet spent his nights in a cheap motel. He also supposedly taught history Upstate, but fought in the underground rings on the weekend.


	6. Chapter 6

Rogue studied the people gathered around the fight ring. There was a sexual energy pervading the air and the women were sizing up Logan like a side of beef. She knew as soon as he entered the ring and strutted his stuff they would be throwing themselves at him.

There was a change in Logan too. Today, on the ferries and at the island, he'd been annoyed at the closeness of the crowds. But now when a woman pressed up against him, he took some pleasure in it. Rogue flushed at the sudden realization that Logan had probably found a sex partner at the fights more than once. 

Maybe that is why he worked his jaw earlier when she asked to come with him. He hadn't originally planned to bring her? True they had kissed, but she'd made it clear to him when they first met that she wasn't that kind of girl.

Logan had gone out of his way to plan for her day off. What if she was ruining his plans for the night, but he felt obligated to bring her. She got his attention. "Logan, if you're wanting to hook up..." She held her breath, Rogue wondered if this was how Persephone felt torn between whom she'd always been; but willing to embrace the role offered her. Rogue knew she'd never be the kind to hook up for a quickie, however for Logan she would be willing to bend her self imposed rules.

He almost choked on his beer. "No...not here." 

"Why not?" she asked. She'd seen some beautiful women eyeing him.

He shrugged. What could he tell her? There fights were the fights. The atmosphere was always highly charged. "Not safe. The women here are almost always with someone. Most of this is a game you don't want to guess wrong at."

She leaned in closer so she wouldn't have to strain to hear. "But you've hooked up before? One night stands?" After having seen the looks random women had given him all day, she was curious how far it went. 

His eyes slid from surveying the crowd to her, his heart twisting a little. He needed to be truthful, because she deserved to know that his past was sordid when it came to women. And that wasn't who he was anymore, not since meeting her. "There was a time that it wasn't uncommon." She couldn't handle the intensity of his gaze and glanced away. "But that was a long time ago."

Logan didn't participate in the first two fights; instead he told Rogue what to watch for in a fighter. "Where's the forty you're always carrying around, trying to give to me?" She pulled the two twenty dollar bills out of her pocket. He pointed to a man who was the center of a cluster of people. "That's Tony. Give him the money and tell him that you want to put it on Dog's boy the first two fights."

She nodded. "What about the rest of the night?"

"After that let it all ride on Wolverine."

Rogue gave Logan a perplexed look, but sought out Tony and gave him the instructions.

Dog's boy won the first two fights as Logan had predicted with each opponent not lasting past ten minutes. It was fast paced and the rules were almost anything goes. Logan told her biting and eye gouging were the only two things strictly forbidden.

Tony started calling competitors for the next rounds. Logan straightened up and handed Rogue his jacket.

"Are you fighting the Wolverine?" she asked, because if he was, why had he told her to put the money on the man he was fighting. Logan was not the kind of man to take a dive, or at least she didn't think so. 

"No, I'm not fighting him," he stated with a wide grin. She would find out who Wolverine was soon and he wanted to see her reaction to that bit of information. 

He pulled his t-shirt off over his head in one smooth motion. Rogue flushed and had to check to make sure she wasn't drooling. She knew from riding behind him today that he had no flab, but this was beyond what she'd imagined.

Logan strode toward the makeshift-fighting ring. He stepped up on the platform when Tony announced Wolverine. Ignoring the crowd, Logan flashed a fierce smile at Rogue when her eyes widened in surprise.

She was fascinated by the change in Logan. He became surly in a way she'd not seen him before. Brutal came to her mind, …no that wasn't right. There was a wildness to him, but he wasn't cruel. Logan was in command of the entire fight.

The fights would go on for a couple more hours, but Logan stepped down early. As he passed Rogue on his way to the back, he told her to go collect her money. She found Tony, who was dismayed that Wolverine had stopped when there were still more bouts planned. Without counting it, she stuffed the bills into Logan's jacket.

Rogue then made her way to the partition she'd seen Logan disappear behind moments before. The area served as an improvised washroom for the fighters. There were some basic first aid supplies and an old large sink basin with a water barrel and spigot suspended above it.

Logan was using a bar of soap to clean up. He set the spigot to a slow stream and lathered his hands; expanding the foam up his arms over his chest and back, saving his face and hair for last. He was quick and thorough, and Rogue got a small thrill thinking of her hands slipping across his body. Earlier in the week it had been his hands she'd visualized doing this to her in the shower. She wanted to know if he would this quick with her? Or would he take his time? 

He leaned in further letting the water spill over his back, she watched as the suds slipped down his sides and fell into the basin. Hugging his shirt and jacket closer, she inhaled the scent of him to add to the sight before her. Rogue shifted uncomfortably, hoping he wouldn't be able to detect her arousal.

She stared at him for a minute more before speaking. "Tony's not pleased."

"I expect not." He said after rinsing the soap from his head. "But he's not responsible for getting you back to the motel so you can get some sleep before you have to work tomorrow."

She tossed him one of the towels beside the sink. "I can make my own way back." 

Logan knew she was capable of getting back to the motel on her own, but that wasn’t the point. They had started the day out together and he wanted to finish it the same way. He wasn't going to drop her like a hot rock; there was nothing and no one else more important to him at this moment.

He took his shirt and pulled it on. "Nah. It's not everyday I get to accompany a beautiful lady back to her motel room." The way he smiled at her almost made her believe him. Rogue doubted she was the only woman Logan had ever taken to a motel, however she was positive she was the first woman who was going to bed without him. "Besides, it's best to not let them think I can fight all night."

* * *

They walked away from the warehouse in silence. It was a short walk to the motel; they passed empty buildings and a few vacant lots. This part of town had little going on at this time of night that wasn't illegal.

Rogue didn't know what to say about the fights. There was a certain appeal to the show of masculine power. The entire warehouse had been full of energy. She'd had a hard time taking her eyes off of Logan when he was fighting.

He had more skill than most of the fighters. The majority were local toughs that he held back with and still won. The last match had been with a soldier. Logan had put more effort into that fight. He'd taken a good beating and as he washed up at the warehouse she'd noticed a few spots that would bruise. He'd talked before about healing faster, but she wondered how fast it was if she saw bruising on him.

Logan turned them down a narrow alley between an apartment building and an old storefront. This way would cut two blocks off their walk and bring them up to the backside of the motel. The alley was clean with only a dumpster and a few empty boxes stacked beside it. Rogue could see the fire escapes overhead, plants and laundry hanging from them, filling what little space that was there.

They were halfway down the alley before she finally said anything. "Wow. I mean...wow." She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and caught his smile. "You're good."

Logan took an odd bit of pride in her noticing, but shrugged it off. "It's a way to blow off steam."

Rogue stopped in her tracks, turning to face him. "Steam? That's one word for it." She'd tried to pretend the atmosphere had no effect on her, but her body was still buzzing from it. The feeling was more intense than what she'd felt from being on the motorcycle.

Logan was radiating a seductiveness she couldn't deny. All of her sense were aroused and directed at him and she wanted to know how much of that he could pick up with his heightened senses. Could he tell that she wanted to do more than hold his hand? Wanted to let him do what he pleased to her, multiple times?

She was positive she was sizing him up like one of the women from the warehouse. In return his eyes were dark with desire. She reached out, placing a hand on his chest to find that his heart was beating as fast as hers. "Can you hear my heart?"

He could hear her heart racing to match the pace of his. He could smell her sweetness; her alluring arousal he'd ignored all evening, thickening. No verbal answer would do; instead his smile took on a feral edge. He stepped toward her, closing what little space there was between them. Instinctually, she stepped backward right into the brick wall of the alley.

One hand was already at her waist pushing up her shirt; the other hand was resting on the wall by her shoulder; effectively caging her in. His voice was soft and husky. "You can tell me no." 

There was no force in his voice, he was sincere and she knew if she told him no he would stop and they would walk on to the motel. Unable to speak Rogue simply nodded her understanding. 

She slid her hand up his chest to hook behind his neck and pull him down for a kiss. His lips were soft and yielding to her probing compared to his strong hand that cupped her breast. She gasped when he rubbed her hardened nipple between his finger and thumb. His other hand had moved to the small of her back, pulling her closer to him.

Rogue pushed his leather jacket out of the way and desperately pulled at his t-shirt to get at his chest. She wanted to slide her hands along the hard planes of his muscles. He was tense, holding back with her as he had with his opponents at the fights.

She broke their kiss, her breathing ragged, leaning her head back against the wall. It had been a long day and she should be careful. She didn't need to let her power slip beyond her control. But the way he was nipping and kissing his way down her neck, she was reluctant to stop.

Logan thought back to earlier this week when he'd heard Rogue in the shower. He remembered the sounds she'd made and wanted to see if she would make them again for him. This time he didn't want to watch, he needed to be an active participant. Though he remembered her comment about not being that kind of girl and he hoped he wasn't pushing too far, too fast.

His stubble grazed a sensitive spot at the hollow of her neck. She hissed from the sensation and he growled in return. The growl was low and needy, reverberating through her. 

"Wait." He pulled away, but only a fraction of an inch. His was panting and the small puffs of hot air inflamed the skin still damp from his kisses. It was not helping her regain control. 

Taking several deep breathes, Rogue found her inner balance, pushing stray thoughts she'd picked up from him to the side. When she was ready again, there was one of his memories that would not go away. 

"You can hear me when I shower?"

"Yes." He was rooted to the spot, holding himself perfectly still. She knew he wanted to hear her make those sounds, the ones she'd made in the shower, for him. It was a bigger turn on then she expected. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked.

Hell no she didn't want him to stop, but how did she tell him so she didn't sound too eager or like a girl that did sexual acts in alleys all the time? 

When she took too long to answer, Logan moved his hand away from her breast and lifted his head to meet her eyes. Senses still dulled from the fight, he was having difficulty defining exactly how much of this was Rogue's arousal and how much was his. He'd not taken her out with the intension of her owing him any sexual favors for the day's activities. His head was still clear enough to know her hesitation could mean a reluctance to continue.

She could feel him drawing away from her. "I..." she began, tugging up her shirt to reveal her bra. Rogue thought there was something else she was going to say, but he'd began to trace the lace of her bra with his finger.

She watched intently as he pulled the fabric down to expose her breast to the night air. His fingertip circled her nipple causing her to make a small noise in the back of her throat. It was all the encouragement he needed to replace his finger with his tongue. 

As good as it felt when he took her nipple into his mouth, she knew the little noises she was making weren't the sounds he wanted to hear. She boldly undid the button on her jeans and guided his hand further down her belly. His strong fingers tangled themselves in her curls, caressing her wet folds. She moaned into his ear, which only spurred him on. 

This was not the kind of thing she imagined when she was in the shower. Nothing in her life before Logan would have lead her into an alley with a man who she was willing to let put his hand down her pants.

Although she had been bold a moment ago, she couldn't find the courage to do more than fondle his erection through the denim of his jeans. 

His thumb was rubbing her clit with a finger teasing her opening. She gripped his shoulder, bucking into his hand as her body began to tremble. His mouth left her breast to cover her mouth, swallowing her moans as she came.

Rogue stood or rather leaned heavily on Logan to catch her breath. She felt exposed, even though his body protected her from the view of any prying eyes. 

Overwhelmed. She was overwhelmed by the day and what they'd just done. It had been perfect and now she wanted to cry.

He instantly straightened her clothing and cradled her in his arms. She was amazed at what he could pick up through smell. Her tears had only begun to threaten to spill over when he reacted. She rushed to beat him to the next part. "Don't apologize."

"Alright." He was resting his chin on her head. "Are you okay?" 

"Yes! It's...it's been a long day. Wonderful, but long and I'm tired." She tugged at his jacket. "This is a first for me." Her cheeks burned from the flush that stole across her face. He kissed her forehead, a gesture that was not only comforting, but also oddly romantic.

* * *

Their walk the rest of the way to the motel was quiet. When she stopped at her room she peered over her shoulder at him. He was working his jaw muscle; he did it every time he was thinking of what to tell her.

"I forgot my key." 

It took him off guard. Recovering quickly, he said, "Get out your I.D." 

He showed her where on the doorjamb to put her card and how to put pressure on the doorknob. When she tried, nothing happened. "Put your shoulder into it, Darlin'."

She raised her eyebrows at Darlin'; it was starting to become a habit, but it still gave her a warm feeling and she liked the sound of it. Doing as she was told, she gave it a second try and popped the lock. "I don't want to know how you knew my lock would do that."

He looked at her innocently.

"I'll see you.." She checked out her watch. "...in a few hours."

"You bet."

Turning to enter her room, she glanced back at him. "Logan..." She bit her lip, should she ask what was weighing heavily on her mind. "You and I...we..."

He stepped toward her and placed a chaste kiss on her lips. "We're good, Rogue."

She placed a hand on her tingling lips. "Marie."

"Marie," he repeated in a hushed whisper.

She scurried in her door before he could detect what saying her name like that did to her.


	7. Chapter 7

Logan hadn't lied to Rogue, everything was okay between them. Despite what had taken place in the alley, they fell back into the routine they had established before that night. She knew sometimes she stared too long at his lips or bit her lip when he looked at her a certain way. Sometimes she saw desire flare in his eyes, but they both strived to maintain a balance.

She entertained the possibility that she was in love with him. For the present, she was content to let things be. Given a little more time they might work their relationship in a different direction, but right now she needed to earn a living.

It had been a week since Rogue took her day off and things were back to as normal as they could be for her. She'd had a few odd dreams after the slight pull on Logan. There was no way to tell what were real memories and what were dreams. When she asked he'd told her it was complicated. She'd laughed, asking what wasn't complicated about him. He'd snorted and promised to tell her someday.

A second week came and went. One of the other waitresses needed the day shift and Rogue had traded her for the graveyard shift. She'd napped through supper and Logan had walked her to work on his way to the fights. He said he would come in for an early breakfast afterward. 

She'd expected him to come directly from the fights. By three a.m. she was bored and wished he would show up. All the morning prep work was complete and she was even starting to do jobs the other shifts usually did. When six o'clock rolled around she'd worked herself up with all the reasons why he hadn't shown. Including being abducted by aliens, because with Logan one never knew.

Rogue zipped out the door as soon as her shift was over. She practically ran to the motel, she even took the stairs two at a time to reach his room faster. She didn't care if she was out of breath and panting when he answered the door. At least he would be answering the door with a stupid excuse like he fell asleep and that he would make it up to her.

After knocking on the door, she tried to smooth her frazzled hair and tuck it all neatly behind her ears. She knocked again and was rewarded with a muffled sound from the other side of the door. An image of Logan dragging himself from bed and answering the door in nothing but his jeans and sleep-tousled hair crossed her mind. When no further sounds emitted from his room she became concerned again.

Stepping back, Rogue examined the door, though she was unsure exactly what she was looking for. Then she saw it, blood on the door and the doorjamb around the knob. She knocked a third time, louder and calling his name at the same time. Once again she heard the muffled sound.

That couldn't be good. Searching her uniform she found her ID and forced the lock like Logan had shown her. Or at least she thought she had, but the door wouldn't budge.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she studied the door again. She had opened it, but there was something heavy placed in front of the door that would not allow it to swing any further. Rogue leaned on the door, nudging it enough to get a hand in. Whatever was on the other side was like a dead weight.

This time, she put her back to the door and was able to make the opening wide enough to peek in the room. The dead weight was Logan. He was laying face down on the floor, and although she couldn't see his lower half, she guessed his feet were braced against the door.

"Logan?" No response. "Sugar, I need you to move your feet so I can open the door."

There was a slow shuffling; scraping sound and Rogue was able to shove the door so that she could squeeze through. She came to a halt right inside the door.

Logan was prostrate on the floor in a pool of blood.

"My God, Logan." She moved around to kneel beside his head. He was making a raspy, gurgling noise. "What happened?"

"I missed breakfast with my woman." His voice was barely audible.

"That's not funny Logan." She started to stand up. "I'm calling an ambulance."

"No!" The command was clear, followed by him trying to push himself off the floor and failing miserably. He began coughing and the gurgling was worse.

"Okay, okay. But I need to do something." She assessed his condition. He had six holes, bullet holes, in his back. There was possibly another one or two on his legs; it was hard to tell with all the blood. His right arm was outstretched with metal blades protruding from them. She decided these were the claws he'd spoken of. His other arm was trapped underneath his body, so she didn't know if there was anything else.

"My healing will kick in soon."

"Well, it isn't and you have me scared." She was trying to keep the panic out of her voice.

"It will. The Drops need to wear off."

That could be only one thing. "You took Drops. That drug mutants use to hide their mutation?"

"Yeah. They don't let mutants fight."

"You dumbass." She really wanted to hit him, but she didn't think it would make an impact at this point. "Did someone at the warehouse do this to you?"

"No. Happened on the way back." He paused sucking in a breath. She heard a 'bubbling' sound coming from one of bullet holes in his back. "It's complicated."

"When aren't things complicated with you?" she asked in frustration. He laughed which turned into another coughing fit that frightened her. 

"I'll be back in a minute." Rogue jogged down the hall to the hotel's supply room for housekeeping. Using her newly acquired skills she jimmied the lock. If her waitress gig didn't pan out, she was certain she was developing the skill set needed to become a thief.

She liberated as many towels as she could carry. Hurrying back to Logan's room, she struggled to stuff herself and the towels through the opening. Piling the towels near Logan, she stripped down to her leggings and long sleeved top. She neatly laid her uniform over the desk chair and shucked her shoes there as well. She didn't have the time to spend getting blood out of her uniform. The guilt hit her with how callous that seemed while he lay bleeding on the floor, but no matter what happened to Logan she needed to earn a living because she wasn't ready to become a thief.

Rogue kneeled beside the arm tucked under his body and informed him what she was planning to do. "First, I need to get your clothes off."

He smirked and she blushed. She rolled him far enough to pull his arm out. Luckily his claws were sheathed on this hand. She worked his jacket off his left side and went to pull it from his right hand. "Sugar, your claws are out and I can't get your sleeve over them."

Logan grimaced but flexed his arm and the blades slowly retracted. 

"Why do you use them if it hurts?" she asked, getting his jacket off.

Giving his best impersonation of a shrug, he answered, "Life is full of pain."

Rogue stopped for a moment. His statement, and the way he said it with a mixture of such nonchalance and resignation saddened her. She didn't know how to respond to that, so she simply kissed him softly on the temple. Someday she would try to press him for an explanation and maybe even help him heal whatever wounds were causing him that kind of pain. But for now, she had other wounds she had to tend to.

She stood up and tossed his jacket into the tub along with the towels she'd used to mop up the blood on the linoleum. The process of bandaging him up was taking too long, but he'd been adamant about no help.

"Let's get you rolled over." She knelt back down and with some added assistance from Logan she got him on his back. He smiled up at her and she closed her eyes in frustration and shook her head at him. "You've been mostly dead all day," she mumbled.

His brows knit together. "What?"

"This..." She waved her hand to indicate him. "...reminded me of a movie." Rogue grabbed a washcloth and went to wet it. "Let me clean your face while I decide the best way to get your shirt off."

He was compliant, not that he had a choice, and let her get the blood out of his hair also. "Not great, but it will have to do." She began to inch his shirt up, but as hard as it had been to turn him, getting his shirt over his head might be impossible.

"Rip it off. You know you want to, Marie." He topped the statement off with a wink. "Seriously, it already has a bunch of holes in it."

Of course, he was right. Rogue grabbed the material near one of the holes and pulled. The shirt ripped easily enough, the toughest part being the seams and hems. She retrieved a couple more wet washcloths and began the task of cleaning his chest. Once clean, or as clean as she could get open wounds, she counted seven holes.

"I need to make sure the bullets all came out. Do you think you can help me turn you again, to your side?" It didn't matter if he could help; she was going to need to turn him anyway.

When Logan was on his side, she straddled his hip to help him balance. He helped a little more that time, so she reasoned his healing factor must be rebounding. She removed the shirt, then cleaned his back and the floor. Finally, she counted the holes, six.

That figured. She pressed around his back, visually lining up the holes in his chest to those in his back. "I need to call someone to get this bullet out of your back."

"No. You're doing fine. There's a knife in my pocket. Get it and cut the bullet out." Rogue sighed heavily at him. "Marie, it would take someone longer to get here than for you to do it."

Giving into his request, she reached into his pocket and pulled out a multi-tool. She'd been waiting for him to make a sexually tinged remark, but he didn't this time. Maybe he was sensing her frustration and didn't want to push it.

Opening the multi-tool, she selected a knife she thought would do the job. "Ready?" she asked.

"Always. Are you?" His voice was sounding stronger. Still raspy, but without the hint of breathing difficulties that had been there earlier.

"No, but I don't have much choice." She tilted him further forward and made a cut under his shoulder blade. It was easier to do than she expected and there wasn't near the amount of blood that she thought there would be, but he might have no more blood thinking of what she had cleaned up. She made the hole big enough to put her index finger inside and probe around a bit.

When she located the bullet she rearranged the multi-tool so the needle nose pliers could be used. Then she had to widen the cut so the pliers would fit. 

"Are you still with me, Sugar?" Rogue found that using a term of endearment kept her calm and it was better than dumbass. Dumbass was reserved for being mad and when she was mad her hands shook. Right now she needed steady hands.

"Yeah." His voice was strained and she knew she needed to get this over and done with.

Wrestling the bullet out, she laid it and the tool to the side. She cleaned his back again and noticed the other wounds had almost quit bleeding. Spreading two more towels on the floor, she put him down on his back on top of them. Using a couple more towels she made a bandage that wrapped around his upper torso. It wasn't as tight as she would have liked but it would work.

Rogue sat back on her haunches and stared toward the bed. Now for the hard part. "We need to get up. Do you think you can help?" 

Logan pushed up on his elbows and held the position for several seconds before easing back down. "I'll give it a go."

"Bear with me, I have an idea." She straddled his hips. "Get back up on your elbows."

He lifted his eyebrows but did as he was told.

She leaned over, resting her chest on his and wrapped her arms around his back. With him pushing and her pulling, Logan made it into a sitting position. Rogue rested her forehead on his shoulder while he braced himself up with his arms.

"Marie…" It was a whisper in her ear. There was something in his voice, and it wasn't the pain she'd heard earlier.

"Don't…do not tell me what this position is doing for you. I know and I promise you can show me later if we both make it through this."

His hot breath was on her ear, stubble exciting the sensitive skin of her neck. "I'll hold you to that promise."

She sat back to look him in the eye. "I hope so." She watched him battle the smile on his lips, some coping mechanism he had. Back to matters at hand. "Any ideas, cause I've never been good at deadlifting."

They decided to use the nearest wall as an aid and with a little scrambling; he was propped up against the wall. Rogue made sure the floor was clean and dry and then removed his worn army boots and socks so he'd have better traction with his bare feet. 

After huffing and puffing, Logan leaned heavily against the wall. They were both worn out, but at least he was standing or rather in a somewhat vertical position. She feared that his wounds may have reopened, but he assured her they hadn't. Since the towels around his chest were still their dingy white color with no red appearing she dropped the subject. 

Moving him to the bed was easier than she anticipated. She didn't so much as walk him to the bed as they did a drunken lurch there. Once beside the bed, she began to unfasten his belt buckle and jeans.

"Marie?"

"With all the blood on you jeans, I need to make sure there aren't other bullet holes." She didn't see what he was protesting about.

His arms were working well enough to hold his pants in place. "Everything's intact."

Her brow furrowed. Intact? What was he talking about?

Logan raised an eyebrow at her. "You don't need to check my junk."

Oh! She felt the heat sear her cheeks; she opened and closed her mouth several times before she found her voice. "No, you can keep your boxers. I need to check your legs."

At that he let her pull his jeans down and help him sit on the bed. He flopped to the side and she put his legs up on the bed and got his jeans all the way off. Rogue quickly examined his legs and found nothing that needed bandaging. She peeked under the towels on his chest, the bleeding had been minimal.

"Logan, there has to be someone I can call." She was still concerned what she'd done wasn't enough and his healing factor wasn't as good as he thought.

"Phone's in my jacket." He pointed back toward the bathroom.

Rogue took his jeans with her to add to the pile of bloody items in the bathtub. She went through the pockets of his jacket; besides his phone, she found cash from last night's fight and a handful of foil wrappers. She put them on the counter and took the phone to Logan.

"If I'm not better in two hours dial the phone number and ask for Hank or Jeannie."

"Which number?" she asked, turning on the phone.

"You'll figure it out." He relaxed into the bed.

His phone wasn't password protected and the only thing on it was a single contact marked X. Well; there was one thing about Logan that wasn't complicated.

Looking up from the phone she studied him as he fell asleep. Hades, ruler of the underworld...in some ways Logan could pass for a Greek god. He definitely had the physical build of one of those chiseled statues and the supposed immortality to go with it. Though she decided that his face was more rugged and less radiant than the gods were usually depicted. 

She had so little to offer a man like Logan; even their one date had been on his dime. Only by betting on him had she been able to put aside some extra money. Then again, maybe he was only looking for companionship. The Greek god, up from the underworld, looking for a place to fit in. The tears stung her eyes; this Persephone was falling in love. 

Gathering the rest of his personal items, she put them on the desk within easy reach. Sitting around watching him sleep for two hours was going to drive her crazy, there was plenty she could do. Keeping busy would help ground her in reality and not allow her to daydream about life as a consort to a Greek god.

Rogue cleaned the floor again then rinsed out all of the towels. She was able to sneak them into the motel laundry room and pick up some fresh towels without being seen. 

Logan's jacket was another story. The blood rinsed out reasonably well, but being leather she was skeptical about using anything to clean it. Then again he may not want to wear it with the new ventilation holes.

Rinsing out his jeans, she looked down at her own clothes. She breathed out heavily; at least she managed to keep her uniform clean. Stripping down and putting clean water in the tub, she washed everything as best she could. She then took a quick shower.

Afterward, she hung the wet clothes over the shower rod to dry. His leather jacket she let drip in the closet area since there was nothing else there. She checked Logan's bandages; the wounds were smaller and no longer bleeding. He was resting peacefully and she doubted she would need to call for help.

There was nothing left for her to do but wait for him to heal. She was dead tired from the night shift and fixing up Logan. Throwing the towel she'd been wearing around toward the bathroom, she wrapped herself in the comforter. Rogue lay down on the other side of the bed to rest for just a second.

Snuggling closer, she wanted to be able to hear him breathing, to know that he was on the mend. She put a hand on his chest to feel his heart beating steadily, another reassurance that he wasn't going to be recalled to the underworld and leave her alone. If he did leave, would he take her with him? Questions for another time she told herself. Right now, he was here.


	8. Chapter 8

Logan woke up with a start and sniffed the air. Still New Jersey. But this time Marie was nearby, her scent sweet and warm beside him. She was curled into the comforter breathing easily, deep in sleep.

He got out of bed, careful not to wake her; even though it was early afternoon, and stalked toward the bathroom. Everything was clean, cleaner than it had probably ever been. He was embarrassed by how completely she'd taken care of him. Not only had Marie fixed and cleaned him up, she'd also removed all traces from his room that anything out of the ordinary had happened. Even hand washing his clothes after spending a night on her feet at the diner.

Worthless heel. That's what he was. He'd been off doing his own thing again and run into trouble, then hardworking Marie had to clean up his mess. He was no better than the weasel of a manager who had tried to take advantage of her.

He took down her dry clothes and folding them neatly and laid them on the seat of the chair by her uniform. Taking a shower he thought over the situation. The thugs that shot him after he left the fights had been a chance encounter. It took them a second, but when they thought they recognized him they opened fire. He'd been lucky to make it back to the motel before collapsing.

Logan had a vague idea what it was about, but he would need to do some poking around. First, he wanted to put some distance between himself and Marie. The last thing he needed to do was drag her into something deadly.

When dried off, he pulled on a fresh pair of jeans and sat on the edge of the bed to put on his socks and boots. She was awake now and stretching, trying to keep the comforter in place.

"I need to leave." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Marie sit up, hugging the comforter to her chest. "Got to check out some things."

"Can't you do that here?" Logan felt the bed move as she crept closer. He wanted to tell her to stay put he needed her to keep her distance, but she smelled so tempting.

"No." He tensed as her fingers danced across his back where the bullet holes had been. "Don't want to bring trouble down on you."

"I don't want you to go." There was something in her voice, her southern drawl skimming over his senses like silk.

He stood abruptly, letting his socks drop to the floor by his boots. Wanting to put space between them, he took a couple steps to clear his mind. She exhaled softly in disappointment. 

Logan turned back to face her, to try and explain his drive to keep her safe. That he would only bring her grief and earlier had been but a small taste of it.

Looking at her with the comforter fallen away, eyes full of desire, was a miscalculation on his part. The need in her eyes matched the fire he could feel burning steadily within himself. He wasn't strong enough to stay way and found himself standing by the bed in front of her.

Logan could smell the spike in her arousal. Those same light fingers followed by butterfly kisses blazed a path across his chest, making his already hardening cock throb. 

He set his jaw; he should put an end to this, explain and walk out the door. She placed several more kisses along his jaw. She saw his hands move slightly as if he wanted to touch her, but he fought the reflex and held them firmly to his sides. "You don't have to make any decisions, let me do that," she murmured, tracing her fingertips down his arms and hands.

He felt his resolve beginning to weaken; he had to put an end to this. Removing all trace of emotion from his face, he stood there, trying to look unaffected. Poker was a game he was good at and he'd played for far too long for this slip of a woman to figure out his tell. 

"I know you think you might love me." Logan flinched almost imperceptibly at her words. He tried to hide his reaction, but when the corner of her mouth twitched in a little smile, he knew she'd seen it. Marie was right there. He was pretty sure he'd fallen in love with her some time ago when he hadn't been paying attention. "I love you and I want to do this with you."

Her hands dipped down, pushing his boxers and jeans lower on his hips. He was warring with himself because he couldn't hide the fact that he wanted her. However, he could deny himself the ability to guide her in what he liked.

She had unfastened his jeans and pushed them down off his thighs. One of her hands was making tentative strokes with his cock, the other fondling his balls. He watched her, breast swaying slightly with her movements and he had to ball his hands into fists at his sides.

He let his eyes slide closed as she bent to take him into her mouth. She was leisurely exploring him with her tongue. The way Marie was concentrating on him was making it very difficult for him to be passive. Unclenching a fist he put his fingers on her chin and gently pushed her mouth from him.

She had a look on her face somewhere between an impish grin and a pout. He could feel the smile spreading across his face and forced it away with a growl. Though the growl didn't have the intended effect on her.

Marie almost fell off the bed grabbing for one of the condoms on the desk. Ripping open the foil packet, she fumbled it, at which point he helped her roll it down his shaft. She pulled him down on top of her, crashing her lips into his for a kiss. In a hurry, she guided him until he slipped into her in one smooth motion.

With her sharp intake of breath, Logan stopped instantly. He admonished himself; he should have put it all together and known this was her first time. Then maybe he wouldn't have let his resolve melt at the touch of her hands.

She put a finger to his lips. "Don't you dare apologize."

Logan placed a kiss on her finger, unwilling to disobey her since he hadn't fought her over the decision making. He rested himself on his elbows, tangling his hands in her hair. As she relaxed beneath him, she pulled him down for a kiss and began to move experimentally. He started a slow rhythm that brought little gasps and moans from her.

It was better than any of the fantasies his imagination could summon. He was mesmerized at the sight of her and placed kisses across her chest and up her throat. He held back and watched as she withered underneath him in pleasure.

When she opened her eyes, she flushed and looked away. Sometimes, it wasn't all bad to have someone else make the decisions. 

"You didn't…" she flushed an even deeper shade of red. He had to grit his teeth as she wiggled in embarrassment. Marie's little impish smile was back when she saw his reaction.

She began again with the feathery touches and whispered longings. Logan started to move with her unable to hold back this time. He wanted to be gentle, but she was making it impossible to reason out what he should do.

* * *

Later he lay on the bed; Marie neatly snuggled into the crook of his arm. He knew this didn't change anything; he would still need to leave before the men who shot him made the connection to Marie. He hadn't been exactly discrete in his public dealings with her, even taking her to the fights. Hopefully, he would get to the bottom of this quickly and eliminate the threat. 

"Logan…" She was absently tracing patterns on his chest. "I think I want to be your Persephone, but not just for a season."

Pulling her in tighter, he placed a kiss on the top of her head. He'd already considered taking her away from this life. Giving her something more than what she would ever have at the diner. "I'd like that," he said with a note of wistfulness in his voice before he caught himself. He really would like to be with her, but he needed to get this business straightened out.

She set out a small content sigh. Her fingers began their feathery light dance, following the trail of hair down his abdomen to his groin. He quickly stilled her movements by placing his hand over hers. "Marie, I can't stay." Even sneaking back to her at night would be too big of a chance until he found out what he was up against.

He brought her hand to his mouth, kissing it before untangling himself from her. Swinging his feet over the side of the bed, he located his discarded boxers and jeans. Logan pulled them on, this time he finished putting on his socks and boots.

"When will you be back?" He could hear the disappointment in her voice as he stood.

He turned toward the bed and she was kneeling naked in front of him. His attention drifted to the window on the far wall. Looking at her was more temptation than he could handle. "A couple of weeks, not more than a month."

Marie placed her hand over his heart, giving him a small smile. "It's complicated, isn't it?"

Logan snorted, running his hands over her shoulders. She pulled him closer, hugging him. He returned the hug, resting his chin on the top of her head. "I'll be back for you, Darlin'."

"You promise?" she asked holding him tighter.

He might not have done a good job of keeping the promise to her in the last timeline, but he was determined not to fail this time. "Yeah, I promise."

When they were both dressed, Logan packed his belongs in his backpack. He then made sure that Marie had all her things. If they tracked him to the hotel, he didn't need a bright neon sign advertising his involvement with her. 

He fingered the wad of cash in his pocket. It wasn't much, but it would be something to tide her over. He told himself he wouldn't worry about her that way. There was also the concern of offending her by giving her cash, especially so soon after they'd had sex. 

Then again any version of Marie was bound to be as level headed as the two he'd had the privilege to know. He trusted her to understand his intent, taking it out he gave it to her. "In case you have a bad week." She nodded, taking the money. "And don't skip meals."

Rogue smiled at him. "Only if you don't get shot up again." She tried to be lighthearted, letting him know she'd be fine, telling herself he'd be fine. 

Smirking, he wrapped an arm around her and leaned down for a kiss. "Deal," he whispered, covering her mouth with his. Maybe this time around he would manage not to fuck things up for her, for them.

* * *

Logan waited patiently as Jubilee prattled on as she made her way to his room at the mansion. He remembered a handful of papers on his desk when he'd been back a month ago. He'd given it little thought at the time, didn't even know why they'd been kept, but there might be something to it after all. 

"Are you sure you want me to do this?" Jubilee asked over the phone with fake concern. "Has anyone ever breached the inner sanctum of the Wolverine?"

He barely contained a growl. "Just do it!"

"Okay, but if I..." 

He heard the door open and she took several steps. "Jubilee."

"My god, you're a neat freak. Couldn't you at least leave a shirt on the floor or an overflowing trashcan?"

"Then it should be no problem finding the papers." Maybe it wasn't too late to ask for someone else to do this for him.

"The cleanliness is blinding me here. Okay, I'm at your desk. What the hell...do you clean your windows too?"

This might have been quicker if he'd driven to Westchester.

"Detective Bowden, yep it's here. Hey, looks like you got the police report on his death." She was silent a minute or so, he could hear her shuffling papers around. "Oh man, Wolvie, if it were anyone else but you I'd ask if you were going to need help with whatever you're planning."

"That bad."

"They didn't just kill the guy, they tortured him first. Whoa, like bad." 

He heard her make a few noises of disgust. "Anything else?"

"Nope. Oh, wait a minute there is an email addy on the back. Looks like you might have been in contact with his Captain."

Jubilee gave him the additional information before hanging up. Checking his email he found not only a couple of messages from the Captain but apparently Logan and Bowden had corresponded several times before his death.

Logan had no idea if Bowden had been a friend or a colleague of some kind. He was fairly certain he'd been in Jersey looking into the man's death, the Drops trade, and possibly human/mutant trafficking. Had he stirred up enough trouble with those responsible for Bowden's death, before he awoke in this timeline, to have a shoot on sight order put out on him? It appeared to be highly possible.

Well, he knew where to start his climb up to the top of the Drops supply.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Nebelwerfer42 for a helping hand going forward. 
> 
> * * *

When Rogue stepped out of the diner there was an SUV parked outside. It was far too nice for this neighborhood and if she wasn't mistaken it was heavily armored. That last part she thought was some scrap of knowledge she picked up from Logan's memories. 

No sooner had she made it to the sidewalk then two large men appeared in her path. She recognized them as customers from earlier in the week. They looked as dangerous now as they had then; Pamela hadn't even flirted with them. 

She mentally made note of spots for attack; skin showing on the hands, neck, and face. Putting a hand in a pocket, she felt for the old folding knife a trucker had given her the first week she was on the road. The knife wasn't much, but it might give her an element of surprise. 

The men blocked the sidewalk and didn't look like they were going to let her proceed. She might be able to slip past them, but then what would she do? Run to the motel? No one there would help her. Briefly, she thought about retreating to the diner, but she was leery of bringing whatever trouble was coming her way down on the wait staff. 

"Mr. Falco would like a word with you." It was the man in blue who had come from the driver's side of the vehicle. 

"No, thanks." Rogue was already skirting passed them. 

The other man beside Blue held back his jacket so she could see the handgun in his waistband. "It wasn't a request."

She swallowed hard. She guessed this was the trouble Logan had talked about, had wanted to keep away from her. Her choices were limited, but she had two things to her advantage that they might not know about: her knife and her mutation. Of course, this had to be the trouble Logan had mentioned.

Blue opened the rear passenger door and indicated that she should get in. Rogue could see a petite blond in a tailored business suit sitting on the other side. The man with the gun, Rogue decided to call him Magenta to make this seem less threatening, flashed her a large grin that gave her a chill. He obviously needed to be the first one taken out. 

Steeling herself, she climbed into the SUV. She seated herself next to the blonde in the rear-facing seat and came face to face with an older man in his seventies. 

"Ah, Rogue. It is Rogue isn't it?" He smiled like a genial grandfather. 

"Yes, sir." Just the look of him elicited a response like she would have given her own grandfather. The vehicle door was shut softly as if not to disturb their conversation. 

"I'm Mr. Falco." He extended his hand and smiled again when she didn't shake it. "I understand. My men can be a little intimidating at times. However, I have been looking forward to our meeting for several days now."

Blue and Magenta seated themselves in the front, shutting their doors as quietly as possible. Rogue scrunched her brows in confusion. She had never seen this old man and had even less idea why he would want to meet her. Especially since his men might have been the ones that 'killed' Logan, or would have if Logan were an ordinary man. 

"I'm sorry, Mr. Falco, I don't understand what you want with me."

"Of course, where are my manners? We will get to the specifics in a moment." Mr. Falco inclined his head toward the blonde. "Isabel has some Drops for you and then we will talk."

Isabel held up a blue glass bottle with a dropper in it. Rogue reached for the door and Mr. Falco nodded. The doors clicked with no visible locking mechanism for her to use when the door didn't open. 

"I would prefer if you stayed? We have much to discuss." Behind her, Rogue heard the hammer of a gun being pulled back. Mr. Falco smiled, "Believe me, young lady, when I say that it is in both of our interests for you to take the Drops or things could get a bit unpleasant."

Him not wanting her dead was something to work with. She put a hand in her pocket, holding tightly onto her knife. Rogue acquiesced and tilted her head so Isabel could put the Drops in her eyes. Rogue blinked back the sting and glared at Mr. Falco who was keeping time on his watch. 

Several minutes passed and he nodded to Blue and Magenta. Rogue heard the gun being uncocked. "Now my dear. It seems that you and I have a mutual friend. He goes by the name of Wolverine."

She narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing the older man. Lying would do her no good, but neither would telling him anything. "And?"

"He has been causing me some concern. Showing up where he is not wanted, causing a ruckus in an otherwise peaceful neighborhood, and generally been making himself a nuisance."

The scenery going by outside the window didn't help Rogue tell where they were going. This part of the city was full of old warehouses and riding backward added to her disorientation. She turned back to Falco, raising an eyebrow. 

He smiled at her. "Our friend is keeping my men very busy, I believe that by having you as our guest during the negotiations would lead to a more positive outcome."

"You mean as your hostage," Rogue stated flatly. Whatever this man's trade was, she was sure it wasn't harmless.

Falco gave her his grandfatherly smile again. "Hostage sounds so barbaric. Think of yourself as an incentive for our mutual friend."  
She gripped her knife for reassurance. Logan had said he would be back for her and she needed to believe that. But it would be up to her to stay alive for him to find her. Then Hades could bring hell on Earth to reclaim his Persephone.

* * *

It had been several weeks since he'd left Marie. He'd discretely checked up on her, surveilling her from afar. Logan had wanted to visit her, but it was best he kept his distance. 

Using his time wisely, he'd quickly found the mainlines of distribution for the Drops. Several people had thought his argument persuasive enough to disappear. Others he'd had to help them make the decision. 

He was getting close to the manufacturing hub; all he had to do was follow the now almost continuous flow of raw materials slowly being funneled to a central location. A line of workers would help, but he was beginning to think there was also some human trafficking happening in the form of forced labor. That idea he would confirm tonight. 

In the meantime, he'd picked up word on the street that Tony was looking for him. It was odd; Tony didn't strike Logan as someone who would pursue a fighter past the initial invite. There were always fighters willing to prove themselves; he didn't need to seek out one in particular. 

What the hell, Logan could kill two birds with one stone. He'd go get a beer and see what Tony wanted then he'd make a quick detour and check on Marie. Logan was almost finished with his beer, Tony was a no-show when Dog entered the bar and headed straight for him.

"Wolverine." Dog didn't even bother to sit down. Logan nodded in acknowledgment and drained his glass. "Tony wants you to know he didn't say nothin'."

Logan dropped his cash on the bar. "About what?"

"You ain't heard?" Dog asked then shook his head. "Damn, people are scared. Some grandpa set his thugs on Tony." 

Logan knew Tony wasn't a fighter, but he was a tough man who was streetwise and didn't borrow trouble. "He okay?"

"Don't know man. He's in ICU, might not make it," Dog said with a shrug. "But he wanted you to know he kept his mouth shut. I got the feelin' his woman might have said something though, ta' save Tony's life."

Logan slowly nodded, mentally reassessing his plans. "When was this?"

"Four days ago. One of my fighters seen that armored SUV those thugs drive, goin' round the neighborhood. Been stoppin' over at Chet's Diner."

Logan's stomach dropped. Marie...

He was already out the door before Dog could say anything else. "Fuck," he swore under his breath, fighting the need to unsheathe the claws. He had a bad feeling about this. 

Logan made his way to the hotel but Marie wasn't there and he could tell she'd been gone all day. At the diner, the feeling in the pit of his stomach grew worse as he confirmed that her shift had ended hours ago and she'd left as usual. They had seen those thugs but not today. 

Several diner patrons jumped in their seats as Logan jerked open the door on his way out and it slammed into the nearest booth. He'd tried his damnedest and like in the other timeline, failed to protect her. Unlike before he wasn't going to let this slide; he'd brought this trouble to her. His only fear at the moment was that they might have done something to her, but he pushed that thought away. This drug lord's main objective was to take out Logan himself, not enrage him. Logan had to trust his instincts that if the man had Marie, she would be safe for the time being.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm. Why he'd blinded himself to this possibility, he didn't know. No, he knew he didn't want to believe that he'd messed things up for her. He'd used her to fill his days and make himself feel good about being helpful. He fought the urge to release his claws and wreak havoc, but it would do no good and he needed to keep calm and controlled. The only chance Marie had was if he did what he was best at.

After leaving the diner he followed Marie's scent down the block. It stopped suddenly halfway and veered off to the street. He studied the area of the street, where her scent suddenly disappeared. The area also smelled of diesel, something a heavily armored SUV would run on, Drops and it was dripping oil. 

He'd seen the SUV that Dog alluded to around the 'factory' he'd been watching. It went in and out of the factory, but he never got a good look at whom it chauffeured around. The dripping oil was easy enough to follow and the heavier diesel smell stood out. Sure enough, it led him straight to the facility he'd had under surveillance. 

From a spot on the roof of an adjacent building, Logan could see that the factory was closed early for the day. It was just now sunset and the factory lights were off and no sound was coming from the building. He could see the wooden remnants of a broken chair among shattered glass on the roof of the factory. The window above was broken; it had been intact this morning when he'd been around. 

Changing vantage points he could now see a couple of men taking up strategic positions. They were all carrying folding stock AK 47s and seemed to be loaded to take care of a small army. He watched them for a while longer, taking mental note of their positions and patterns of movement. 

As the night settled in Logan slipped from the roof to the street. He'd done most of his planning on the roof and had little prepping to do. There was no need for a small army; he could take care of this himself.


	10. Chapter 10

They had moved down to the factory floor. The 'workers' had been dismissed for the evening, that left Falco, Blue, and Magenta alone with Rogue. The entire day had been wasted waiting for something to happen. 

Rogue shifted her feet, it was becoming hard not to show how cold she was and her bare feet on the cement floor weren't helping. She examined the room for the millionth time. If only she could get out of the handcuffs attaching her to the pole and away from the tank of Drops, she might have a chance of escape. Then again they had forced workers in here every day and the workers hadn't been able to escape. 

"Are you cold, my dear? The cold is a necessary step in the manufacturing process and I can't give you your clothes back." Falco waved a hand at Blue and Magenta. "I don't need either of my associates permanently damaged."

Magenta sneered at her unpleasantly as he limped passed. That was fair as he took the worst damage of the two. There had been a point upstairs when a small voice told her it was time to make a break for it. She thought it might be a residue of Logan, what little she had picked up from him, helping her make some tactical plans. 

Catching them off guard she'd slashed at the nearest one of the two with her pocketknife. Magenta had fallen over in surprise as her knife sliced through the muscle on the back of his thigh. When Blue came toward her that voice told her to go for the tendons on his forearm. Unsure of her aim she made a swipe at Blue; she doubted she got anything more than his sleeve. It was enough to make him back up and give her a clear path to the window on the far side. 

Grabbing the wooden office chair as she passed the desk, she used it as a battering ram on the old single pane window. The chair and window hung for a moment before falling, taking the entire window frame with it. She let them fall and tried to ignore the angry voices behind her as she assessed the situation below. The drop to the factory roof wasn't bad, but the glass shards and broken chair gave her pause. Searching she sighted the fire escape ladder hanging over the edge, she could do it.

Taking a deep breath, she'd leaped, clearing the windowsill. She was mentally preparing herself for the landing when a sudden jerking motion halted her forward momentum. Blue was cussing a blue streak as he pulled her back into the building. Damn her need to always double knot the apron strings to keep them secure.

Blue looked none to happy as he hauled her back and made her strip down to her bra and panties at gunpoint. Magenta bandaged his own leg as Mr. Falco tsk-tsked them all like a group of naughty grandchildren. After the scolding, Blue was sent downstairs to clear the factory floor of workers and set up defenses.

Now they were waiting for Wolverine to arrive. Rogue hated to tell them that they probably wouldn't like what would happen when he did arrive. They thought they would kill him then her and dispose of both bodies. But she'd seen Logan healing even with Drops in his system. She knew Blue, Magenta, and all of Mr. Falco's armed men wouldn't make it out of this alive. Her, well she figured her chances were pretty good, at least better than those men. If she didn't freeze to death first. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by the thump of something large on the roof. Blue and Magenta had more experience at this and by the way they looked at each other she guessed it was a body. They almost smiled, until they heard the gunfire further back on the roof and their smiles faltered. There were other sporadic sounds that broke the silence and Mr. Falco was starting to lose his grandfatherly look. 

One of the loading dock doors had been left up to try and funnel Logan into their line of fire. Rogue was pretty sure that if seven bullets didn't kill him before, this setup would only serve to make him angry. After a full two minutes of quiet, a dragging step could be heard approaching the opening. A figure staggered into view holding its abdomen with both hands, Rogue knew immediately this man wasn't Logan. 

She tried to suppress the snicker that was working its way to the surface. When the man fell and didn't move and Wolverine didn't appear for them to shoot, the laugh spilled over. She'd heard hypothermia did weird things to your mind; maybe she was suffering from it. 

Mr. Falco turned on her, eyes narrowed. "Is there something you would like to share?" 

Rogue shook her head, or at least she tried, it was hard to tell with the way her entire body shook from the cold. "Not unless you know Greek myths."

He was becoming frustrated and moved toward her. "The gods?"

"Hades."

Falco's eyes went wide, "The unseen one." Rogue tried nodding again as he reached for the handcuff key in his sweater pocket. Blue and Magenta stared at them, confused when Falco asked, "Are you his Persephone?"

Rogue didn't have time to answer when Logan suddenly appeared closer than any of them expected. She tried to get a good look at him to let him know she was okay and to reassure herself that he was fine too. Both Blue and Magenta had their guns trained on him waiting for orders. "Kill him," Falco commanded climbing the staircase to stand on the platform beside Rogue. 

Falco worked at her handcuffs obstructing her view, but she heard a snikt sound and a roar right before gunfire erupted. Magenta almost lost his balance as he limped backward yelling obscenities and firing repeatedly. Rogue knew some of his shots hit the intended target because not many whined off into the distance. Holding on to hope was all she could do, she knew the punishment his body could take yet ... would this time be too much? She had to hand it to Magenta, he didn't scream as Logan's claws gutted him.

Blue was reloading when Falco pulled her further back on the platform. She only saw Logan swing for Blue's throat with his claws extended, since she heard no more gunshots, only the thud of a body and what sounded like Logan's footsteps, she guessed only of them was still alive. Her suspicions were confirmed when Falco stopped, turning to face an angry Logan stomping up the steps.

Logan took a second to calm his mind. Marie was still alive. Pale and shivering, but still alive. She'd had more than just a rough day, though she looked him square in the eye and he could see the hope and trust in him there. At that moment he swore to himself that the only one not making it out of this was Falco. 

In dismay, Falco stared around briefly at his dead bodyguards. Rogue spared Logan a shaky smile, her mind seemed stuck in low gear and she couldn't think clearly. She tried to find bare skin on Falco, but with the way he was holding her, the handcuffs and his gloves; she couldn't reach him well enough. She didn't even know how long Drops lasted; it had to have been at least twelve hours since they'd been forced on her.

There was nowhere to go, Falco was backed into a corner with the vat being the only way out. He produced a handgun from his other pocket and pointed it at Rogue. "I believe we can still make a deal. Your Persephone for my life."

Rogue blinked slowly at Logan and shook her head. It was a bad trade, Falco needed to be eliminated. Alive he would continue to crush people who got in his way and exploit those not strong enough to resist. She was trusting Logan to end this and get them out of if he could. 

Marie made the choice he didn't want her to, but the right one nonetheless. She knew as well as he did that Falco couldn't go free. It would be tricky and they would all end up going for a swim more than likely. But the Drops would be the least of their problems. 

Logan sprang forward, single claw extended, cutting off the hand holding her arm. Falco cried out and Marie stumbled back, clearing the way for further action. Falco panicked, trying to shoot at them both, bullets ricocheting off into the distance. Logan could see that Marie was struggling to get out of the way but was hampered by her current physical condition. 

She slipped on the platform's surface made slick by Falco's blood. Logan reached for her as she wobbled, her eyes wide with fright. While he was attempting to grab Marie several of Falco's bullets finally hit Logan causing him to flinch so that coupled with her slow reaction they failed to connect. She toppled off the platform, hitting her head and falling into the tank below. 

This was the worst case scenario. Logan knew he had to act fast, the way her head thunked on the edge of the platform, the small splash of blood blooming on her forehead. His heart plummeted with her. 

Logan stepped just far enough to eviscerate Falco with a slash of his hand. As the elderly man gaped in horror, Logan spotted Marie's sinking form and jumped into the vat after her. He had one chance at this and he better make it good, he wasn't about to lose her again. 

He caught hold of the chain linking the cuffs and held tight as he swam to the edge. She was a dead weight at the end of the chain. Fuck, he was running on pure instinct now, unable to make a plan. Knowing their time was short; he released his claws, slicing the tank. They, along with the entire batch of Drops, gushed out of the rip in the vat. 

When they finally came to rest some distance away, he quickly pulled Marie to him, she felt like a damn rag doll. He was appraising her condition as he did so, hanging on to what little hope he had. She was so cold; he thought her pale earlier but she was now deathly white. There was a gash on her head, she wasn't breathing and he was having problems detecting her heartbeat, his heart seizing up in response. He remembered back to the other timeline, then he'd simply held her after Magneto tried to kill her. However that Marie didn't have control of her mutation and he might be wasting precious seconds of her life. 

Hedging his bets he went with the old fashion method of dealing with a drowning victim. After he made sure there was no liquid left in her mouth, he began mouth-to-mouth resuscitation and almost panicked that it didn't seem to be working. He was certain now that she had no heartbeat and switched to CPR. In her current state of undress, he was positive that there was enough skin to skin contact for her mutation to take hold of his if the connection opened. 

The Drops only took minutes for full effect and he was afraid they were already outside that timeframe. If her mutation was shut off the CPR was the only thing in her favor. He didn't know if her mutation would flip back on automatically with all that had happened. He refused to take the chance that it would.

Coughing and sputtering, Rogue pushed at the weight pounding on her chest. She felt herself being scooped up and held, enveloped in warmth. It took a second to realize that part of that tingling heat was her mutation sucking Logan's energy. In that same second her mutation fizzled out and shut down. 

She feared she was already too late as he feebly let her go. He slumped back on the ground, a smile on his face. Scurrying around she hovered over him. "Logan?" She tried not to scream at him.

His eyes opened a crack and he tried to raise a hand. "Hey, Darlin'," he mumbled. 

Letting out a sigh of relief, she checked him over. He was bleeding heavily from a shot to the chest and another in the gut. The wounds inflicted by Blue and Magenta hadn't completely healed and neither had the slashes at his knuckles where his claws had last been out. His breathing sounded labored and she knew this was worse than the first time she'd seen him like this. In a shaky voice, she asked, "Can I call those people now?"

Logan coughed and rattling echoing in his voice, "Don't know...phone survived..." He waved a hand toward a pocket on his thigh. 

Fumbling with the buttons on the pants pocket, she didn't hold out much hope as she could see a bullet had pierced the pocket and possibly his thigh. Retrieving the phone, she glanced at him briefly. His wounds were no better and his breathing was very shallow now, she felt oddly calm, numbed to what was happening before her eyes. 

Turning on the phone, she thanked whoever was watching over them as it came to life. The bullet had nicked the side of the phone and despite the heavy-duty case, had badly shattered the front glass. Yet it was still functional, only requiring more patience to operate it, something she didn't have a lot of at the moment. 

"Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters," bubbled forth from the speaker.

Blinking, Rogue looked at the destruction around her, Logan slowly fading in front of her. Somehow the cheery voice made her want to laugh.

"Yo! Anyone there?" A pause and some clicking in the background. "Wolvie?"

"Uhm....is Hank... or uhmm... J something..." Rogue almost started sobbing, she couldn't believe she didn't remember and at such an important time.

"Jean?" The voice had become serious, but still had a note of lightness to it. "Can I talk to Logan?"

"No, he's....down." Rogue could feel the cold creeping back in, settling in her. What if, after finally finding a bit of happiness in her life, she lost him? Her voice held a tremor of panic. "He's..."

"Is he still breathing?" The voice was calm as if this were an everyday occurrence. There was also an uptick of background noise on the other end of the line. 

"Yes, barely." Rogue could now hear others talking around the woman on the phone and she concentrated on the noises to keep from falling apart.

"Well then, this isn't a complete emergency. You wouldn't be worried if you saw some of his uniforms after a mission." The woman's voice was breezy but somehow comforting. "Anyway, I'm Jubilee, you can call me Jubes, and I'll be on the phone with you until help arrives. Okay..." There was another pause. "Psst, Chica, this is the part where you tell me your name."

"Oh, uhm Rogue." She wanted to push the hair from Logan's face to better judge his condition but the cuffs where still in place and she couldn't take the phone away from her ear, it was his only chance. 

"Hey, Rogue. Now I need some really important details." 

"Okay, I'll try." Rogue began to look at their surroundings again to try and find anything that might help identify where they were. She didn't think half-naked girl hovering over a half-dead man would help. 

"Great. First, how long have you been seeing Wolvie?"

Rogue snorted, snot and tears running down her face that she wiped away as best she could with the back of her hand. She could hear someone on the other end shout at Jubilee. Rogue hoped they didn't get after Jubes too hard, a bit of levity couldn't hurt right about now.

Carefully she laid her head down on his chest to comfort herself. There was a faint but steady beat of his heart and a slight rise and fall from his breathing that gave her hope. Hades, being King of the Underworld, surely couldn't die.


	11. Chapter 11

Xavier's? Logan sniffed the air again. Yep, Xavier's. At least it wasn't Jersey and if his nose was working properly, Marie was somewhere nearby. 

Trying to sit up, he groaned at the stiffness of his muscles. He could feel his mutation kicking in to take care of that but not before Marie hurried into the room in one of his t-shirts.

"Oh no, you don't," she tsked-tsked; kneeling on the bed beside him and pushing him back down. "I need to call Jean to check on you."

Wrinkling his brow, he reached for the strands of white hair that fell across her face. This was new. "Don't call," he said twisting the hair around his finger. 

She pouted at him a little but didn't move to leave his side. "Glad to see it back?"

He dropped the hair and patted her bare knee. If there was one thing he'd hoped to spare her of this go around it was the jumbled mess of his memories. Finally, he answered, "Heavy price to pay for it."

Laughing at him, she laid down next to him, tucking herself in under his arm after pulling the cover into place. "I don't mind so much after almost freezing to death, getting knocked out and drowning," she shrugged. She really didn't, it was just a strip of hair. "We're both still alive."

Feeling a twinge of guilt, he changed the subject, "How long?"

"Three, no four days. They moved you up here as soon as you were stable." Rogue had been scared to death on the jet sitting wrapped in a blanket watching them work on him. Jubes had sat next to her explaining that Logan's mutation would take care of everything if supported properly. Though looking back Rogue thinks the explanation may have been a little more flippant as it had elicited a few looks from the two doctors. "Jubes has been nice, helped me settle in and retrieve my stuff."

The silence stretched out as he contemplated the fact that Marie had brought her things here, to his room. He liked the idea that she had moved in. There were other problems he needed to consider now. 

No telling how big a dose of him she got and he should probably explain a few things. But where did he start? What would she want to know about? It was always best to be honest. "Love you."

"I know," she said, nonchalantly. He could feel her shaking slightly before letting the laughter out. Scooting up she placed a kiss on his cheek. "I love you, too." She raked her fingers through his hair. "There's plenty of time to talk once you're back to your old self."

Logan kissed her, but she broke away before he could deepen it so he settled for nipping at her jawline. He made his way to her ear, "I'm feeling good."

Rogue giggled as he tried to roll her underneath him. Bracing herself, she didn't let him. "You are on bed rest," she said sternly as she could. 

He flopped back to where he'd been. Never one to give up, he changed tactics. "Then I'll rest," he said, pulling her on top of him, a leg on either side of his. "You can do all the work."

"Technically that would only be the bed part of the rest," she said, biting her lip and thinking it over. 

He liked the way her breasts pressed against him, the way she wiggled around. "I can rest after," he added hopefully.

She sat up with a worried look and began making random patterns on his chest. "You were in pretty bad shape."

Logan realized the patterns weren't random; she was connecting the healed wounds he'd sustained. Here he was again imposing on her, putting his needs first. He shouldn't be pushing for more, it was enough that he had her back with him and she was alive and well.

Rogue saw him set his jaw, meaning she'd probably talked him out of having sex. She'd spent the last few weeks in bed alone wishing he would walk through the door. That her hands were his, making her body catch fire like only he could. 

She couldn't remember a time when she'd been responsible for anyone's happiness but her own. Yet she'd gotten a large dose of Logan's thoughts and knew he had plans for her, for them. Places he wanted to take her, things he wanted to show her. 

She'd known about his claws and the fighting so this part of him was no secret. If she didn't love him, didn't want to be with him, she should have walked away when he was unconscious. However, she'd stayed and now it was on her to find a way to make this work, to meet him in the middle somewhere. 

She started to scoot down his legs, placing kisses here and there as she went. "Maybe there's something we could do to test your resilience." 

Lifting his head, he watched her work her way down. He knew exactly what she was planning and that it would be mainly for him. Catching her by her arms, he hauled her back up. "How about something else?" he questioned, pushing the t-shirt she was wearing up and off.

She was straddling his hips again watching him with an impish smile. Running his hands up her sides he cupped her breasts and thumbed her nipples. Sucking in a breath, she closed her eyes. Rubbing herself onto his hardening erection, she was making little sounds as he fondled her breasts. She was so beautiful and he didn't know why he couldn't see them this way years ago. 

Logan pulled her down for a kiss and she let him explore her mouth until she was breathless. She backed away, and he kissed a line down her throat. "You keep this up and we'll need some protection," she whispered in his ear. 

Reaching for his nightstand, he couldn't quite reach the drawer, Rogue smiled at him and stretched over to open it. She tossed him a foil packet before she took off her panties. She bit her lip again watching him push down his boxers and roll on the condom.

He glanced up at her as she kneeled beside him. "Sure about this?" he asked. 

"Yes," she answered confidently as she lowered herself onto his cock. When he was buried deep inside her, she hissed out, "Definitely."

She began moving experimentally at first then bolder. He watched her, breasts swaying until he could resist no longer and leaned forward to take a nipple into his mouth. She moaned at the sensation, grinding down on him. When he rolled the other nipple between his fingers, she threw her head back, her body shaking from exertion. 

Rogue was so close and he'd moved his hand to her hip, thrusting into her as she rode him. She wanted to look down and watch him, but she lost control and convulsed on him as he groaned beneath her.

* * *

They lay together, Logan combing his fingers through her hair. He needed to start thinking of doing something better with the future, the reason he time traveled in the first place. The best place to start was with Marie's future. "Was thinking we ought to do some traveling?"

"Mmm..," she nodded, smiling into his chest. "Any place in particular?"

"Lots, but where do you want to go?" he asked, despite being sure of her answer.

Rogue played with his chest hair a little longer, thinking it over. A road trip would give them plenty of time to discuss some of his memories and get to know each other better. "Never did finish that trip to Alaska."

"We could start..." he turned to look at the clock, "This afternoon."

She sat up pulling him with her. "We best get you cleaned up so you can get a clearance to go."

He almost leaped off the bed, dragging her along behind him. She looked at him in confusion. "I might need help in the shower," he informed her. He liked the way the blush spread from her face down to her chest. He was going to have to think of ways to make that happen more often in the future. He was lucky; not only to have Marie here but also to have this second chance 'time' had given him. 

~*~


End file.
